My heart is big enough for both of you
by Lakritzwolf
Summary: Written for FalloutKinkMeme on LJ: A happy threesome.   Features Sandy, not so lone Wanderer and too good for her own good and Flak and Shrapnel. C'me on, these two do deserve more attention. Part one of three.
1. Chapter 1

_This baby was one hell of a fun to write, I tell you. I hacked this into my keyboard in four days flat, suffering from wrist pains and hurting forearms but unable to stop. Contains all the goodies: friendship, flirts, action, adventure, shootouts, heartaches, violence and sex - a bit of everything. Originally all I had wanted to write was a happy threesome, but for some reason it turned into a serious multi-chapter love story. And honestly: Flak and Shrapnel DO deserve more attention. Don't they? _

* * *

><p>If they hadn't been best mates for so many years maybe at this point they would have had an argument as to whom of the two she had been blowing that kiss as she left the marketplace.<p>

"And here everyone calls her Angel of the Wastes", Shrapnel said with a very thoughtful frown and slightly annoyed twist around his mouth. "She sure likes to flirt."  
>Flak lit his cigarette, took a deep breath and replied without moving a muscle in his face. "A damn cock-tease is what she is."<br>Finding nothing to add to this, Shrapnel leaned back and patted his pockets. "Damn it. I'm out again."  
>"You smoke too much", his friend replied as he held out his pack of smokes.<br>"I know. Thanks."

They sat in silence for a while, both of them more or less thoughtfully watching the door through which the woman whom everyone called a saint and who called herself nothing but Sandy had disappeared. It was clear to both of them as they sat there that they both suffered from a major infatuation with the girl who was hardly more than a kid. But despite her age she had seen more than many people twice her years, and it showed. It showed in the way she talked with people, the way she carried herself, and it showed in the way she flirted.

And damn her if she didn't have the prettiest silver-grey eyes in the wasteland. Framed with long lashes, domed by softly curved brows, she used these eyes to her advantage whenever she could. Had used them, in fact, mere minutes ago, when saying goodbye to the two shopkeepers sitting on their old and shoddy couch beside their wares. Had alternately fluttered eyelids at both of them, and had constantly smiled, as if life had no hardships to offer.

To be honest, the sun set every time she left. Not that they talked about this. But after so many years of friendship and of sharing a room and a business, some things didn't need to be said to be communicated. And in some mysterious way that only works in a deep and mature friendship between men, they had agreed that if it would ever have to come to a decision one of them would be hurt, and since none of the two could really stomach seeing the other one hurt they both tried to repel the flirting and none of the two encouraged her in any way.

That didn't stop her, however. For some reason, it seemed to make her increase her efforts. What the goal was, however, was anyone's guess, but Shrapnel's theory that she liked men to fight for her and then chose the stronger of the two seemed the best bet.  
>"No way I'm gonna break my best mate's nose for a chick", Flak had replied.<p>

Still, fact was that they liked the kid, and that they got along pretty well with each other. She was easy to talk to and had her share of interesting things to tell. Maybe at one point she would realise that there would be no forced decision and stop flirting, and they could remain friends. Because what was likely going to happen was that once a decision was made, the triangle of friendship would break.

And no matter how hot she was swinging her hips like that when she climbed the stairs up to the door, none of the two would willingly jeopardise a friendship for her that had lasted them almost half their lifetimes.

"Maybe it's all a game to her", Shrapnel said as he extinguished his cigarette. "All fun and games. I mean, she's flirting with the both of us simultaneously. She probably thinks it's funny."  
>Flak had crossed his arms, his cigarette hanging loosely in the corner of his mouth. "Yeah. But wouldn't it have been a real boost to my ego if she had meant it." He chuckled dryly.<br>The problem was that she was such a sweetheart that neither of the two could really be angry with her. And in the end, she was hardly more than a kid and most likely didn't know what she really did to a man with those eyes of hers and the way she threw back her hair with a flick of her upper body. Although to be honest, she was quite mature otherwise and wasn't of the naive and blue-eyed sort...

At one point she would grow tired of the game. That's what the two of them hoped, anyway.

_**xoxoxoxox**_

None of them mentioned it, but as she failed to come back after more than two months, they secretly got worried. They kept telling each other, on the rare occasions they deemed it safe to casually mention her, that she would be fine; that the tough little smart-ass was just on one more ludicrous trip to save someone's musical instruments or whatever else there was worth saving out in the Capital Wasteland. Heck, having heard her talk, her being her daddy's daughter, she could be out there somewhere delivering mutant babies, if mutants would be able to have them, that is.

Since not even the batshit radio DJ let anything on about her, they both silently began to fear the worst; to assume that the Wasteland had finally claimed her when after another month she had still not returned.

And then, one day along the fourth month after she had left, she came back, just like that. No announcement in the radio, no message from Three Dog that the Saviour of the Wasteland had returned. One morning the door to the marketplace opened and in she walked.

Although staggered would be the better word to use. And fuck if it hadn't both of them taken almost a minute to recognise the figure that came stumbling down the stairs. Both of them had risen from the shoddy old couch as she came to halt in their stall to welcome her, but instead of her usual cheerful, infectious smile, she just stared at them out of dull and tired eyes. Flak and Shrapnel exchanged a short and worried glance before looking at the girl again. Her eyes were sunken and shadowed, her face gaunt; it was almost impossible to recognise the pretty vault girl in this dirty, emaciated figure that hunched over with a hacking cough and dropped a couple of rifles on the desk.

"Sandy?" Shrapnel took another step forward. "What the fuck...?"  
>"Just gimme some caps", she rasped, her voice a hoarse grating; nothing left of the silver, pearling laughter that had made them smile every time they had heard it. "I need to see Preston."<br>Flak counted some caps onto the counter, watching her with narrowed eyes. "Kid, where the fuck have you been? You look..."  
>"I know", she snapped and coughed again. "I've bitten off more than I could chew..." She coughed, and coughed some more, and her face grew even paler as she tried to regain her breath. The sound of her laboured, painful breathing made both of them wince. "I need to see Preston..." She grabbed a corner of the table for support, but even as she did so her legs gave away under her.<br>"Fucking hell!"Shrapnel was standing close enough and caught her before she hit the ground. "Get the caps, Flak."  
>Flak swept the caps into his open palm and turned around to the crowd that had gathered around the stall in the last minutes. "Anything missing..." he began, but Harkness interrupted him.<br>"I'll watch it, Flak. Go get her to Preston."

With Flak opening doors for Shrapnel as he carried Sandy's unconscious form, they made their way to the clinic as fast as they could. As Shrapnel put the girl's body onto the stretcher in the corner Flak dropped off the caps on Preston's desk.  
>The doctor in turn had seen them coming and had already put some gloves on. "Thanks guys. Now get out of here."<br>"Don't you need a hand?", Shrapnel asked, but Preston snorted as he pushed him aside. "It's what you wish fore, sure. Get out of here."

Seeing as the doctor unceremoniously unbuckled the straps of her jacket Flak and Shrapnel retreated again; they could well imagine how little she would care for being seen so helplessly exposed by more people than absolutely necessary. Silently and deeply worried they made their way back to the marketplace. The rest of the day passed in uneventful, nerve-wracking quietness.

_**xoxoxoxox**_

They went to check on her again after they had closed their place down and found Preston sitting at his desk, alternately staring into a microscope and at his computer screen. "I sincerely hope you two are coming in brotherly concern", he snapped at them as the two hovered in the door. "Because she ain't in any shape to be fooling around with either of you two."  
>"Seriously, Doc", Shrapnel gave back after exchanging a hurt look with his friend. "Is that how you think of us?"<br>Preston slowly turned around, giving both of them a scrutinizing look. "Well, it doesn't take a team of clairvoyants to see you two have some major crush on the girl. I'd hate to see someone take advantage of her, especially in her current stage."  
>"Trust me, Doc", Flak replied slowly, his eyes boring into the doctor's. "So would we."<p>

Doctor Preston returned that look in a long, stern glare until he nodded. "Fine. Because she needs help. To hell if I know where she's been and what she's done there, but it sure wrecked her up. To begin with, she's pumped full with some kind of drug I can't even identify and that doesn't respond to my anti-addiction treatment; secondly, wherever she's been, it filled her lungs with so much poisonous dirt that it's half a miracle she can breathe at all."

He let these words sink in for a moment before continuing.

"Were I a vulgar man I'd say she is royally fucked. Whatever drug it is, I can't get it out, and she's started jetting as well, I guess to counter the withdrawal of the stuff. And with all the poison cruising in her bloodstream, I can't get that out properly, either. So there is no other way to get rid of this mess than go cold, ice-cold I'd dare say. And still she needs to be out in the open air as much as possible. As far as I can tell, whatever she's been exposed to has done no lasting damage yet, but she'll be coughing blood for a couple more weeks. So she's weak, and she's vulnerable, and even here in this ship are people ruthless enough to sell her any shit she can use to fight the hell of withdrawal. So someone needs to watch her all the time, support her and help her going cold. But she has no family with her father dead, but I sure as hell don't trust you two with any girl in that state, knowing what I know about your feelings for her."

"Now listen Doc", Flak began after he had rallied himself. "We're not gonna..."  
>A weak rasp interrupted him; it was Sandy, her broken voice calling out for the Doctor. "Preston..."<br>"Yes?" He was at her side in an instant.  
>She licked her cracked lips and painfully cleared her throat. "They're my friends."<br>Preston took one of her grimy hands. "Do you trust them?"  
>Her tired eyes swivelled to the two men hovering in the door and back to Preston's face. "Yes."<br>"Right." Preston turned around. "I'll take her word for it." Then he walked up to the two men, giving each of them a stern look. "You're her custodians. You keep her safe. You watch her, because she can't do it herself. And if I find out you've been exploiting her weakness I'll have Harkness throw you out, what's left of you anyway after he's done with you. You know his moral codes."

Flak narrowed his eyes.  
>"You could at least give us the benefit of doubt, Doc", Shrapnel said, looking equally cross. "The way you talk... Jesus, you think we're two teenage boys unable to hold their dicks in reign?"<br>Preston smiled a tired, little smile. "To be honest, no man is truly able to hold his dick in reign, but I get it. Apologies, boys. It has been a hard day for all of us, I guess."  
>Something rare happened then. Flak swallowed his anger and took the offering of peace. "Sure has, Doc. See you tomorrow then."<p>

As the two of them settled down on their cots for the night, they exchanged a long, worried glance.

"You sure we're up to this, mate?", Shrapnel finally asked, breaking the mutual speechlessness. They both hadn't said a word after leaving the clinic.  
>"No", was the reply. Flak just wasn't the man for many words; he had never been and never would be. Yet, after a moment of pondering silence, he added: "But I'd rather eat my own dick than let that bastard Sister or that drug-pot Cantelli anywhere near her."<br>"I hear you, buddy. I hear you."


	2. Chapter 2

It was easy to forget her teasing and flirting, to become strongly protective instead of slightly horny. Not that her emaciated body and constant coughing gave any encouragement into that direction. People talked of course; but then, people always talked. It was the gossip of the bored, the gossip of people who had to hold on to anything they knew about anything they deemed unusual. Neither of the two gave it any heed. The people wouldn't believe they were chaste if they gave it to them in writing.

They took shifts; one of them conducting business as usual in the marketplace, the other walking her, who was leaning heavily onto a supporting arm like the invalid that she was, round on the flight deck. It was on one of those rounds, on the fifth day after return to Rivet City and the second day of her being able to stand on her own feet again, that a particular nasty coughing fit rammed her like a giant fist and brought her to her knees.

Flak lowered himself down behind her, holding onto her shoulders to steady her. He wasn't comfortable with the whole situation, not only because he remembered all too well the teasing and flirting remarks she had thrown at him, hell at them both. No, mostly he was uncomfortable because he hated seeing her so weak, and he was uncomfortable with how weak he felt himself with it. And he'd never been weak or soft. Never before had he been so worried about someone else; and the feeling of weakness and softness inside him was what made him feel uncomfortable. But he'd meant it when he had said he'd rather eat his own dick than see someone take advantage of her.

He watched with worry as Sandy hawked up several large black globs of phlegm speckled bright red.  
>"Shit..." She gasped for air and let her head drop back where it came to rest against Flak's shoulder.<br>And suddenly Flak understood what Preston had been on about. Here they were. Alone on the deck. She was practically sitting on his lap; her cheek only inches away from his, his hands on her shoulders and only inches away from her breasts. It would only need a turn of his head to kiss her.

He turned his head. Summoning all his strength of will – and thank god he had a lot of that – he turned his head away and stared straight ahead. The only thing he could not summon under control was his traitorous dick, but luckily Sandy was too miserable to notice. And after a few moments, that passed too. When she was able to stand up again they resumed their round before she had to return to the clinic for a lie-down, and Flak made a mental note to ask his friend if he had been in a similar predicament as well the day before.

As it turned out, he had.

"Fuck it, damn if I wasn't that close to kissing her", Shrapnel said as he took a deep swig out of the bottle of vodka.  
>"But you didn't", Flak gave back, looking at him.<br>Shrapnel returned that look. "No. But man, it wasn't easy, buddy."  
>He offered Flak the bottle who took it and took a gulp himself and remained silent. What more was there to say, anyway? They had brought this shit onto themselves, but as long as they would be able to confess these things to each other, they could keep it going. They would keep it going. Sandy needed them, and she needed them as friends and not as two pricks with ears.<p>

_**xoxoxoxox**_

Things went up three or four notches on the difficulty scale one to ten when Sandy had to leave the clinic and sleep somewhere else. None of the two could stomach the thought of her sleeping in the commons with no one to watch her back. The only alternative however was having her sleep in their cabin.  
>"I'd rather be with you guys", Sandy said in a rasping whisper when confronted with the choice in the presence of the doctor. Preston eyeballed first her, then Flak and Shrapnel, but since they hadn't given him any reason to doubt their motivation, he didn't comment on it.<p>

Flak had found a mattress that they placed on the ground between their two cots. Shrapnel had organized a couple of blankets at Bannon's. And now the two of them were standing in their own cabin like something that had been ordered but never been picked up while Sandy dropped her bag and looked up with a painful grin. "Someone please make a joke, guys."  
>Shrapnel tried. "Any special orders for breakfast?"<br>It sounded as weak as it was, and Sandy shrugged.

Since she was only wearing a pair of old cargos and a tank top, she just kicked off her boots and flopped down onto the mattress. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence she looked back and forth between the two of them, chewing her lower lip.  
>"I never had the chance to thank you yet, guys," she said hesitatingly. "I supposed it's my turn to... I mean, surely you'll want something in return and I..."<br>"No", came it in unison from both cots at her sides.  
>She looked back and forth again, into two uncomfortable and tight faces, and then stared at the ceiling.<br>"Okay", she whispered. "I see. I guess. Uhm." Then she coughed. "Goodnight guys."  
>"Good night, Sandy."<br>"Night."

_**xoxoxoxox**_

Shrapnel awoke in the middle of the night as he heard someone rummage around in the darkness. He took a few seconds to remember that Sandy had moved in with them, but something about the way she breathed as she shuffled around and seemed to grope in her pack made him suspicious. He sat up and switched the light on, only to find her startle violently and look up with a horrified, guilty expression.

Flak shot upright sleepily as well, and narrowed his eyes when he saw Sandy sit beside her pack, clutching something small to her chest.  
>"Sandy?"<br>"I couldn't sleep...", she began weakly.  
>"What's that you've got there?" Flak said, swinging his legs out of the bed as he glared at her.<br>"Nothing!" She clutched it tighter. "I just..."  
>Flak was at her side in an instant, ignoring the fact he was only wearing a pair of boxers that had seen better days. "You just fucking nothing! Gimme that!"<br>Too slow to evade him and too weak to resist Sandy could only sob as he pried her fingers open and took the small package out of her hand. He shook it, and it rattled. Narrowing his eyes even more he opened the box and into his hand fell several small, roundish pebbles.

"Shit", Shrapnel said as he saw that. "Sandy what the fuck are you doing?" He got up as well, and Sandy fell back onto her backside and hugged her arms around her chest.  
>Flak exchanged a single glance with his friend and sniffed at his hand holding the pebbles. Pills. That was what they were. And they stank. "Fuck it, Sandy, is that why Preston couldn't get that drug out of your system? 'Cause you kept on pumping it back in?"<br>Shrapnel took a look at the things in Flak's hand. "Sandy, what is that shit, and where the fuck did you get it?"  
>She didn't look at them. "They called it... they just called it Shit. I don't know what it is."<br>"Who called it that?", Shrapnel persisted.  
>"The other slaves", she gave back, her voice hardly more than a whisper.<br>"Slaves?" Shrapnel exchanged a glance with Flak whose turn it was to feel a horrible suspicion rise up in him.  
>"Sandy, where the fuck have you been?"<br>She hunched herself a little tighter. "The Pitt."  
>"What?"<br>"What's the Pitt?", Shrapnel asked.  
>Flak looked up. "You don't wanna know, buddy." And to Sandy, he went on: "How the fucking shit did you get out of there?"<p>

She finally dared to look up, a trace of defiance in her eyes. "I killed Ashur."


	3. Chapter 3

This last sentence left Shrapnel completely mystified and Flak rendered speechless.  
>After a few moments of silence, Shrapnel tapped his friend's arm to make him look at him. "Hey Flak. Care to enlighten me?"<br>"Not particular, no", Flak replied. "But I have to, I guess."  
>And as Flak told his friend about the Pitt and Lord Ashur, carefully dribbling the pills back into the box as he did so, Shrapnel kept staring at Sandy, the small, lithe girl from the Vault, and finally could only mutely shake his head.<p>

"But Sandy...", he began after a while. "Sandy, why the fuck did you start taking that junk here? I thought you were brighter than that."  
>Sandy shrugged. "I guess I..." She licked her lips. "I got myself into this and then I was stuck. I thought I'd never get out of there again. I thought I was doomed to die within a couple of months at the ovens there. I started taking the Shit because..." She shrugged. "It makes you not care."<br>"Yeah", Flak said after another moment. "And it's addictive as hell."  
>"It doesn't matter", Sandy snapped back. "Because you die anyway after half a year, latest!"<br>"But you're not in the Pitt anymore!", Flak roared. "And fuck if you gonna keep on killing yourself with it! Do you have any more of that stuff?"  
>"What's it to you anyway?"<br>Shrapnel intervened at this point because he saw his friend's nostrils flare. And you didn't want to see Flak flaring his nostrils. It was like the final chirp of a sensor on a bottlecap mine. "Easy kids", he said. "Sandy, Flak's right, you are killing yourself with that shit!"

Sandy stared at him, then made a weak surprise attempt at grabbing the box in Flak's hand to regain it.  
>"Woah!" Flak snapped his hand back and tossed the box to Shrapnel. "Don't make this any harder, girl. Shrap, get that thing out of here."<br>With a scream of utter despair, Sandy cast herself at Shrapnel now to grab for the box, but Flak was faster again and took hold of both her wrists, pulling them behind her back. "For fuck's sake, Shrapnel, you gotta check if she has any more of that shit on her!"  
>"Get your hands off me!", Sandy screamed and struggled weakly in Flak's iron grip as Shrapnel awkwardly rummaged through her pockets where he indeed found another box. "No! Get your hands of me you dirty pig!" Sandy struggled even more as Shrapnel, mortified but dead set on stopping her from getting any deeper into this shit, went for her pack as well where he found two boxes more.<p>

"Destroy them", Flak barked. "Throw them overboard, burn them, what the fuck, just make sure she can't use them anymore."  
>"No!" Sandy struggled even more in his grip and from the strain she began to cough. "Bastard! Filthy, fucking bastard!" Yet she slumped as the door closed behind Shrapnel who had barely taken the time to put his trousers on, and just fell into a helpless sobbing fit.<p>

Hesitatingly Flak let go of her wrists, knowing that he had hurt her but also knowing that it had been the only thing for him to do. Feeling awkward and uncomfortable, he sat down on his cot as he watched her sob, but as he tried to put a hand onto her shoulder to comfort her she swatted it away with an angry snort and moved even further away from him.

When Shrapnel came back, after no more than a couple of minutes, he took in the scene with one glance and a heavy sigh. Flak stared at him with an unmoving face.  
>"Sandy, come on...", Shrapnel began but broke off as she looked up, pale and red-eyed, hair dishevelled and cheeks wet.<br>"Yeah, come on", she snapped. "Come on, both of you. This is what you wanted, isn't it? To see me down, with my face in the dirt, just fucking admit it!" Her voice rose into what could only be called hysterical screaming. "You just want to see me down so you can finally fuck me! That's what you wanted, isn't it! Serves me right for flirting with two men, so come on! What the fuck are you waiting for?" With these words she jerked up her top and bared her breasts at them while tears streamed down her cheeks.

In the dead stillness following her words the sound of Flak's feet hitting the ground sounded like a shot. He silently grabbed his boots and trousers and was out of the door within two seconds flat, slamming the door so hard behind him that the lock couldn't hold it and it slowly swung open again, remaining slightly ajar.

Sandy's soft sobbing was the only sound for a very long while before Shrapnel, who had turned around in shock, slowly looked at her over his shoulder, looking at her face alone and trying to keep his voice steady and gentle. "Drop it, Sandy. I know you feel like shit, but that wasn't called for."  
>With clumsy movements, Sandy pulled her top back down, then pulled up her knees and slung her arms around them. With another sob, she let her head fall forward. "Sorry", she whispered into her arms, her voice thick with tears. "Christ, you just gotta hate me now..."<br>"Nah, bullshit." He cautiously lowered himself down beside her. "Bullshit. Come on, Sandy. We just want to help you."  
>"And fuck me?" she looked up, her eyes glassy.<br>Shrapnel failed to answer for a few seconds, then swallowed. "Jesus, Sandy. Drop it."  
>"Just admit it", she said, her voice hollow, her tone resigned.<br>"No." Shrapnel shook his head. "Certainly not like that."  
>She was gritting her teeth.<br>"Come on Sandy. I mean..." he swallowed. "Okay, I'll be honest. You're a sweetheart, and you're pretty, and yes, you're a goddamn cock-tease, but... no, not like this. This is not what I would want." And as an afterthought he added: "And it's not what Flak would want, either."  
>She lifted her head at that, staring at the ceiling. "He hates me, too."<br>"Bullshit. Sandy, drop that. No one hates you. We just wanna help you and you..." Then he narrowed his eyes. She was shivering, trembling all over, and her face was white as a sheet. Sweat was pearling on her temples, some of the drops already trickling down her face. "Fucking shit... you're going cold... aren't you."  
>She didn't reply.<br>"Sandy?"

Her voice sounded completely dead. "Just fuck me. Please. Do something. Make me not feel this anymore. Do something to me. Flog me, hit me, fuck me. Anything. Just make it go away."  
>"I'll do nothing of the sort", Shrapnel replied, absolutely mortified. Behind him the door squeaked as Flak stepped in again, he had been standing a couple of steps away from the door and had heard her talk. His face was a pale and waxen mask as he lowered himself down beside her again.<br>"Sandy", he said, his normally deep voice lowered into an even deeper pitch. "We can only help you if you let us."  
>She was still staring at the ceiling, droplets of what had to be mingled tears and sweat shining on her cheeks. Her voice was a suffocated whisper as she spoke. "Please... gimme a hug..."<br>The two friends exchanged a glance.  
>"Which one of us?", Flak asked cautiously.<br>She closed her eyes. "Both."

They exchanged another gaze, this one perplexed and more than a little embarrassed. With a shrug, Shrapnel then moved closer in to her and beckoned Flak to do the same. He had to beckon two more times, however, before Flak could force himself to do so.

Jammed in between the two Sandy let her head drop back and sobbed. "Don't let go."  
>They didn't, not until she had fallen asleep, despite the awkward position she was in.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days were the hardest, and between the hacking coughing fits and her violent attacks of shivering and wailing from going cold the two of them hardly managed to coax some food into her. But after a week the fits receded, leaving her head clear for the first time in months. However, this week had also left all three of them exhausted to the bones, as well. None of them had been able to sleep properly during that time, but by now the hardest part seemed to be over.  
>Her cough gradually improved, as well, and slowly, very slowly within a couple of weeks, she began to resemble her old self again. By and by she also began to feel more comfortable with them, but she did not pick up the flirting again. And strange enough, neither Flak nor Shrapnel could really say if he was truly glad she had stopped.<p>

She made a habit of spending the day in her friends' stall, sitting on the couch like a mascot and occasionally taking a breath of air out on the bridge if needed.

One evening all three of them stood there, admiring a particularly spectacular sunset behind the memorial when they heard a crack and suddenly something whizzed past Sandy's head. She spun around with a yelp as another shot fell, and even before any of them could react, a third shot cracked through the evening and the bullet grazed Sandy's arm who couldn't suppress a pained gasp.

Within a split-second Shrapnel had pushed himself in front of her when the fourth shot fell, and suddenly everything slowed down into an absolutely surreal clarity. Sandy heard him cry out, and she saw the blood gush out of his head before Shrapnel almost gracefully turned around as his legs gave way under him. He hit the bridge with a dull sound that made her wince, and the same moment time started to flow normally again. With a howl of anguish Flak grabbed her shoulder and Shrapnel's leg and dragged them back towards the door where they were shielded from any further attacks. The two guards had reacted as well and were running across the bridge to look for the enemy, but that fucking sniper could sit anywhere hidden away in the rubble.

"Open the fucking door, Sandy", Flak snapped as he hoisted his unconscious, bleeding friend into his arms. "Get moving!"  
>With a shake like a wet dog Sandy forced herself out of the shock she had been in and obeyed, running in front of him towards the clinic. And again, Preston had heard the commotion and was putting on gloves as Flak stumbled in with his load.<br>"Is this kind of appearance here turning into a habit?", he asked dryly as Flak set Shrapnel down and stared at his bleeding friend.  
>"Stop fucking around and do something", Flak barked, anxiously watching as the blood that was dripping down Shrapnel's head pooled under the trencher.<br>"If you get out of my way I might be able to assess the situation", Preston replied calmly as he unwrapped a large piece of gauze and pressed it to the side of Shrapnel's head.

Flak was just about to explode when he felt a hand on his arm. He gazed down, saw Sandy giving him a concerned look and, with a pat onto her hand, took a deep breath and stood back, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply as he smoked with a lightly shaking hand.

"That was a close shave if I ever saw one", Preston said after a while. "Sandy? You remember something of that medical training in the Vault?"  
>Swallowing her own anxiety, Sandy stepped beside him, finally having a chance to make good on everything they had done for her. "What do you need me to do?", she asked a she rinsed her hands in alcohol from the bottle the doctor had been pointing at.<br>"Scalpel", he said to her, holding out a hand. Sandy turned, saw the tray with the instruments and realised she could fall into the old routines easily enough.  
>"Swab."<br>She wordlessly complied.  
>"Forceps."<br>From the corner of her eyes Sandy could see that Harkness had emerged on the scene, and he and Flak withdrew themselves a little into the corridor, Flak briefing the security chief on what had just happened.  
>"Swab."<br>"That is bleeding awfully, doctor."  
>"Head wounds usually do."<br>"I know, but I haven't seen something like that before."  
>"Gauze." The doctor shifted the gauze that absorbed the flowing blood. "I said it was a close shave. It nicked the skull bone, can you see?"<br>Sandy could see, although she would have preferred not to. "He seems to have a thick skull."  
>"They both do." Preston smiled. "What happened? Suture."<br>"I don't really know. It was a sniper, and I am pretty sure he aimed at me."  
>"Well, lucky for you he missed."<p>

Sandy swallowed, remembering the awful scene all too clearly. "No, he didn't." Preston looked up at her over the rim of his glasses for a second as he worked and she pressed her lips together before continuing. "Shrapnel... he threw himself in the way. He shielded me from the last bullet. It was meant for me, doc. And he took it."  
>The doctor shifted his glare down to the face of the man before him but didn't fail to notice the sudden quaver in her voice. "I'll be damned." Then he looked at her and patted her arm. "Don't worry. He'll make it, and you'll be able to thank him yet. But I fear he's going to be unconscious for quite a while and probably will take even longer to get fully up to speed again. Bandage."<p>

Sandy looked at her friend, his head now being swathed into a tight bandage, and wondered just how long it would be before he would be his old, cheerfully nasty self again. Thinking about that he took this terrible injury for her made her want to scream.

"Doctor?" The security chief's voice sounded out from the door. "I'd like to speak to Miss Sandy if it's possible."  
>Preston gave her a nod and Sandy walked over to the security chief, her knees beginning to feel a little weak as the doctor closed the door behind her.<br>"Chief Harkness?"  
>He measured her for a moment before speaking. "Miss, have you ever heard the name Talon Company?"<br>Sandy groaned and fell backwards against the wall. "Won't the bastards ever leave me the fuck alone!"  
>"Miss?"<br>She took a deep breath. "I've upset that bastard from Tenpenny tower, what's-his-name... Burke, that was it. You know what he wanted me to do?" She still felt anger bubble up inside her like Nuka Cola in a heftily shaken bottle. "He wanted to detonate the fucking bomb in Megaton! And he wanted to hire me to do it!"  
>Harkness lifted one eyebrow.<br>"Well, obviously, I declined the job offer although..." She shrugged with a sheepish grin. "I didn't use a very polite expression. I basically told him to shove his pulse charger where the sun doesn't shine, and shove his ugly hat right in after it for good measure."  
>The security chief cleared his throat. Flak, not aiming to keep up a professional appearance, just snorted.<p>

"So he told me I'd regret that decision, but seriously, I think he'd have said that anyway. I mean, after making that offer and me declining it, he couldn't let me just go on my peaceful little ways, could he?"  
>"Most likely not, Miss", Harkness replied levelly. "How long ago was that, do you remember?"<br>"Uhm." Sandy scratched her chin, then her face lit up. She consulted her Pip Boy, tapped something in, scrolled through a list and nodded. "Little less than a year now."  
>Flak leaned forward, exchanging a surprised look with the security chief. "You evaded the Talons for a whole fucking year? What's the bounty? Do you know?"<br>"Two thousand", Sandy said with a strained smile.  
>"Jesus Christ, the bastards must be going up the walls by now." Flak lit another cigarette. "No wonder they're getting as bold as brass and try to shoot you practically inside Rivet City."<br>Harkness sighed and exchanged a look with Flak.

"Well... uhm." Sandy pushed herself off the wall. "I guess you'd prefer me to remove myself and the threat from Rivet City now... it's not as if I don't understand..."  
>Flak was just about to open his mouth in protest when Harkness shook his head.<br>"I couldn't do that, Miss", he said. "In fact, I think this incident could finally give me what it takes to convince the council and the other security officers to take more of a hand in the safety not only of Rivet City but more of the immediate surroundings."  
>Flak joined the conversation again. "Like running patrols in the area?"<br>"I am thinking about it, Flak", Harkness gave back. "It's not my decision alone to make. But what we definitely need, and what the council now can't deny, are more reliable defences. I think it's about time someone repaired and activated those two auto-turrets on the bridge tower again."  
>"I think we can work something out, Chief." Flak blew out some smoke with a thoughtful frown.<br>"Right then. Goodnight, and please give my regards to Shrapnel when he wakes up. It was a brave and honourable thing he did today."

Flak nodded and seemed engrossed in his smoke, but Sandy thought she could see that the calmness was forced. When he brought his cigarette to his lips, his hand was a little unsteady.

"How is he?", Flak finally asked when Harkness was not only out of sight but also safely out of earshot.  
>Sandy shrugged. "The Doc says he'll be all right, although it will take a while." She closed her eyes, and all of a sudden, the adrenaline that had kept her going since the shock of being shot had set in was spent. She slumped against the wall with a tired groan.<br>"Sandy?" Flak took her arm.  
>"Jesus, Flak, I'm done for", she said in a low voice, casting another glance at the door of the clinic. "I need to lie down."<br>"What about your arm?" Flak gave her another worried, scrutinizing look.  
>"It's just a scratch. Really." Yet she shifted her arm and sighed. "I'll just jam a stim pack in."<br>Flak accepted her words, and they made their way back to their cabin in deep, thoughtful silence.

But even as Sandy applied the stim pack after falling down onto her mattress, she noticed that Flak was sitting stiffly on his cot and was still smoking like there was no tomorrow.

"Flak?"  
>He shook his head and blew a large cloud that lazily swathed itself towards the ceiling. They both watched it dissolve there.<br>"Fuck, kid. Shrapnel's been my best bud since... fuck, since years. If he kicks the bucket..." He shook his head and absent-mindedly and carelessly extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray that sat on the locker next to his cot. His fingers trembled when he lit up the next one as fast as he could get it out.

Sandy got up again and hesitatingly sat down beside him. He didn't look at her as he took another deep breath and blew the smoke straight up. "And if it hadn't been for him, you'd be taking a dirt nap now, and..." He helplessly broke off and chewed on his cigarette for a while, but Sandy understood him all the same.  
>"I'm all right, and he'll be. It could have been worse."<br>"That's what I keep telling myself, kid."  
>Sandy sighed and following a sudden impulse, laid an arm around him. Flak stiffened at first, but after a moment, relaxed his shoulders a little. They both leaned against the wall and he put his arm around her shoulders in turn.<p>

They spent a silent, worried night like this.


	5. Chapter 5

In the end, Flak and Sandy spent a lot more worried nights like this, as Shrapnel remained in coma for almost a week. When he finally awoke, though, it was almost worse for Flak to see his friend because he was disoriented, couldn't remember what had happened and what was worst, was completely blind. Had he been a weak invalid, unable to move a limb, it maybe wouldn't have been that disturbing, but seeing as he was, a few days later, able to sit up and remember after all what had happened, even though only in fragments, the way he helplessly tilted his head whenever he tried to localize a sound or a voice was driving Flak nuts, seeing him like this.

Luckily for him they had Sandy, and since she was more or less completely restored now, although still short of breath and too easily exhausted, she took it up to nurse Shrapnel's battered self. Now it was her turn to walk with him around the ship within the following weeks, guiding him up and down stairways, over doorsteps and help him with things like picking up a bottle to drink.

Shrapnel himself was mentally going up the walls as well, as is easy to imagine. Hadn't it been for both Sandy's and the doc's constant reassurance that the blindness was a normal side effect of a serious head injury and would pass, he'd have eaten his own gun within the first couple of days. Had he been able to find it on his own, that is.  
>More than once he felt like screaming and banging his head against the nearest wall until the headache stopped and the world would switch off again, like now when he had managed to knock over a glass that had shattered on the floor beside his feet. Angela had patted his arm like he was a demented dear old granddad and told him it didn't matter.<p>

"I need to get out of here", he snarled and groped helplessly for Sandy's hand as he stood up.  
>Sandy took it and led him out onto the flight deck, where he found a place where he could stand with his face in the wind.<br>"Jesus." Shrapnel rolled his shoulders. "I can't stand this any longer. Sandy, one more day and I swear I will..."  
>"Hey." She took his hand again. "Give it time."<br>"That's what you keep telling me for four fucking weeks now!", he barked and snapped his hand out of hers, crossing his arms. "I swear I'm going raving batshit with this."  
>"Shrap..." Sandy began, breaking off with a horrified gasp when he suddenly started running like all hell was opening up under him. Within a split second she had guessed what he was at and set off after him in a sprint, but had she not simply dived into his legs from behind she wouldn't have been able to stop him in time.<p>

He went down with a yelp that turned into a hiss of pain as his head hit the metal deck.  
>"Fucking idiot!" Sandy scrambled onto her knees again and turned him onto his back. "Stupid fucking idiot! Is that what Preston and me have been tearing our legs out for in the last few weeks? For you to go on a free flight?"<br>He groaned. "Fuck, this hurts, Sandy."  
>"It better", she snapped. "Fucking jackass! What do you think I'm supposed to tell Flak? That you threw yourself off the flight deck while I was merrily looking?"<br>"Jesus, it's not as if he gives more than a..."  
>Sandy gasped for air. "Asshole! He doesn't give a shit? That what you wanted to say? Then why has he been eating himself with worry these last days? Of course, you can't see his face, but I can! And I wish I didn't have to!"<br>"It's not my fucking fault I can't see his face!"  
>"No, but it's your fault that you think your best mate doesn't give a shit for you!"<p>

Shrapnel was silent for a while, mutely contemplating his own misery and stupidity both. In the end, he decided thinking hurt too much. "Sandy."  
>"What."<br>"My head hurts like fuck."  
>She sighed. "Then stop using it as a projectile or projectile catcher and start using it to think."<br>"My brain doesn't work."  
>"I noticed."<br>"Jesus, Sandy, don't you have no compassion anymore?"  
>With a heavy sigh, Sandy shifted her position and turned his head to check the bandage. "To be honest, I just ran out of it as you were trying to blow your lights out before my very eyes."<br>He swallowed. "I'm sorry Sandy... I think I was... I think my brain just shorted." He shook his head cautiously. "I don't normally do that kind of shit."

Sandy looked down at his pale face, at the tight lines around his mouth and the all but vanished smile wrinkles around his eyes and with a sigh, carefully settled his head into her lap and began to gently massage his temples. "Really, you're an idiot", she said softly. "Since how long have you two been friends?"  
>Relaxing under her gentle touch, Shrapnel began to think. "Fifteen years. Give or take..."<br>"Wow." She brushed a few of his hairs away from his forehead. "Was that when you set up here?"  
>Shrapnel closed his eyes. "Nah. That was only a couple of years ago. I met him..." Here he broke off with a furrowed brow. "Sandy, what exactly do you know about..."<br>"About Flak?" She smiled. "I know he's been a slaver once."  
>"Good. I kinda would have felt awkward just blurting it out like that."<br>Sandy chuckled. "It's not as if it's big secret around here."  
>"I know. Still."<br>"Still. Go on."

Shifting his shoulders, Shrapnel closed his eyes again. "Well... you know, it was when he decided that he had made a mistake when choosing sides back then. He'd been a slaver for a couple of years, and that day... to be honest, even I don't know what happened, but I have a suspicion that it had to do with a girl. Anyway, he bolted; he wanted to leave that behind, but no one who has been one of them bastards is allowed to move out like that."  
>Sandy felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in her belly region, identifying it after a few moments as a deep worry bordering on fear for her friend as she wondered just how long both the arm and the memory of these slavers were, knowing that Flak had sold them out to security a few times already.<br>"And I... you know..." He hesitated. "I've been a slave, you know. And fuck, I'm only alive because the collar they'd given me was faulty. I made a run for it, thinking that it would be better to go out in an instant than being a slave. But... it didn't go off. So I found myself a hole and hid there. And fuck if it wasn't my escape that caused enough of a commotion that made him decide this was the moment to bolt, as well."

A thin smile showed on Shrapnel's face. "The only thing I heard was that there was someone else trying to escape as well, I heard shots and screams and then someone was running towards my little hideout and collapsing there directly above the entrance. And me, thinking it was another slave, I stuck out my arm and dragged him in, thinking that I had to help that poor fucker and that if they found him lying there, they'd find me as well." He chuckled a little shakily. "I guess my face looked absolutely priceless when I saw that it was one of them I had just dragged in."  
>Sandy was watching his face, but he seemed lost in the memory. "And you know, I thought fuck it, he wanted to get out as much as I did, obviously. And he was bleeding like a slaughtered molerat. So I tore off a sleeve off his shirt and bound the arm. When he came to, he was as flabbergasted as myself, I guess." He chuckled again. "He managed to get the collar off, and we made off together. Been hanging around together ever since."<p>

"You two sure have been through a lot together", Sandy said after a while.  
>"Fuck, yes." He finally opened his eyes again. "He's my best buddy, you know. More of a brother than anything else. Beats me why I suddenly thought... ah, fuck it."<br>Before Sandy could think of something to reply, she heard steps behind her and turned her head to see Flak heading for them, concern on his face.  
>"He slipped and fell", Sandy said without missing a beat.<p>

Shaking his head Flak went down into a crouch, took his friend's hands and helped him up. As Shrapnel leaned against him Flak clamped his smoke firmly between his lips and slipped an arm under his shoulders to support him as they headed for the door.  
>"How are you?"<br>"My head hurts."  
>"Want me to knock you out?"<br>"Bastard."  
>They both chuckled as they stepped through the door.<p>

Sandy watched them go with a strange mixture of feelings. She was still mildly shocked at the fact Shrapnel had just tried to commit suicide and of course relieved he hadn't succeeded and had come to his senses after that. Topping that up was an uncomfortable tightness in her chest when she remembered how it had felt to have his head in her lap. It was a nice feeling, but what was disturbing about that was that it had felt the same when she had sat arm in arm with Flak the other night. Each of these separate feelings told her the same, but about two different men. It simply wasn't possible.  
>Shaking her head, Sandy got up and followed her two friends into the belly of the ship, catching up with them shortly before they reached their cabin.<p>

Just as they reached the door however, Shrapnel suddenly turned his head. "It's dark in here."  
>"Buddy?" Flak stared at his friend who stared back, his eyes still empty but his forehead furrowed.<br>"Don't know. I just realised it's darker in here than on the deck."  
>"See, it's coming back." Sandy jabbed her finger into his ribs. "That's what I kept telling you the whole time, you twit."<br>"Yeah...", Shrapnel gave back with a strange expression that was guilt mixed with disbelief and relief. "Yeah, so you did."


	6. Chapter 6

Regaining his eyesight was a very frustrating process for Shrapnel as his sight didn't return in a flash but very gradually, and very slowly. After as much as two weeks the only thing he could see were people as dark shadows when he was somewhere with bright lighting. But what really fucked him off was the fact that the more his eyesight returned, the more photosensitive his eyes became so that he was forced to walk around with a blindfold for several weeks more whenever he was at the marketplace or outside during daytime. It didn't improve his temper.

It went as far as Flak asking him to keep his foul mouth shut around the customers as he was pissing people off, to which Shrapnel replied: "Yeah, up yours too, asshole", and tried to hit him, but couldn't, because he was invalid. Flak in turn was now pissed off as well and wanted to hit him too, but couldn't, because he was invalid. So they both stood there with bristling feathers and snorted at each other until Sandy stepped in between them and snapped at them to knock this shit off.

Shrapnel dropped back down into the couch again and crossed his arms, but remained silent. Flak in turn rolled his shoulders once and went back to the parts of the assault rifle before him on the table. Interpreting Shrapnel's body language as saying that he wanted to be left alone Sandy leaned against the table and watched as Flak reassembled the gun. She was rather fascinated by the process as she herself had little talent for things like this, but Flak definitely had.

Despite herself she watched his hands work and his fingers deftly put some small springs together, a little surprised at how nimble these fingers seemed to be. And well, she wouldn't have been Sandy if that thought wouldn't have led straight to the next one, which was wondering what else these fingers would be able to do. She realised too late where this was going and lowered her face, silently hoping he wouldn't notice her embarrassed blush. Luckily, Flak was so lost in concentration on what he was doing that he didn't.

He tore her out of her musings after a couple of moments, but spoke without taking his eyes off what he was doing. "Sandy, does any of your shit need repairing?"  
>Sandy thought this through. "Nah, I don't think so. Thanks, though."<br>His answer was a non-committing rumble as he narrowed his eyes to put the spring back in place.

Continuing to watch him Sandy let her thoughts trail off again. She was still trying to figure out what was going on inside her, but could still come to no other conclusion than the one she already had made. Which was stupid of course. And it wasn't fair towards the two of them.

Living in so close quarters with them over a prolonged amount of time had given her a good impression of the bond between the two men and how strong it was. Doubtlessly they had saved each other's arses so many times they hadn't bothered to keep count. And trying to imagine a girl coming between them worked as badly now as it had when she had first set foot into Rivet City all those months ago. Strangely enough, it didn't work with two girls, either. Imagining them to each have a girl on his own, living in separate quarters, having a woman at their sides when eating or sitting around somewhere... it just didn't work.

Not that she had any impression they were fags. It just seemed they had at one point chosen friendship over girls, not wishing for anyone to move in between the two of them. And she... here she was, flirting with both of them like she had...

She shook her head. She had enjoyed the attention of the two guys, enjoyed their conversations and the flirts, but ever since she had heard Preston talk about their feelings she had been ashamed of herself. How could she have done this to them? As if she could have forced them to make a decision for her... She couldn't even make up her own mind which of the two she liked more, which in itself told her that her feelings were no more than a girl's passing fancy. Despite the fact that her racing heart had been keeping her awake for countless hours already, lying between the two, wishing for... something...

No. It simply didn't work. Because choosing one meant rejecting the other and even if...

Even if she could accept her own feelings, which wasn't easy in the first place, where would that put her? Right in between them. And...

Her thoughts ran in circles. In the end, the only thing she could do was leave the two guys in peace and stop teasing them with things they couldn't have because she couldn't give them. Maybe it was time to move out and sleep in the commons... or maybe it would time to be on her way again. She felt restored, and she wanted to settle the score with the fucking Talons once and for all. And maybe when she was away for a while things could settle down, inside her and around, and they could remain friends.

Flopping down on the couch Sandy tried to ignore the gut-wrenching misery these last four words caused her. Flak shot her a glance as he tinkered with a tiny screw, but if he had an idea about that she had something heavy on her mind he didn't let on anything about it.

_**xoxoxoxox**_

That evening, when they were settling down for the night, Sandy sat down on her mattress and pulled up her knees, putting her arms around them as she looked back and forth between Flak and Shrapnel.  
>"You know guys, I think it's time for me to move on."<br>The two of them exchanged a glance; here in the dim light of their cabin when the neon lamp on the ceiling was switched off Shrapnel could see well enough.  
>"I guess you know best", Flak said slowly as he forced the butt end he was extinguishing into a formless, crumbly mass in the ashtray.<br>Sandy rested her chin on her folded arms and avoided to look at both of them. "I think I've gotten on your nerves long enough with taking up all the space here. I'll move into the commons, and be on my way in a couple of days."  
>"On your way?" Shrapnel sat up again. "Whaddya mean with that?"<br>"Well, you didn't think I'd stay here with my thumbs up my ass for an indefinite amount of time?", she snapped. Something about this situation was wearing her out. She needed to get away.  
>"Jeez, Sandy. All I meant to say was are you sure you're up to it yet?"<br>Sandy narrowed her eyes. "I guess. I've got the feeling I've got a nest of blowflies up my ass. I need to get moving again, and I want to get rid of these Talons once and for all. I know where their headquarters are."  
>"What?" Flak leaned forward, clamping the corner of his mouth around the cigarette he had been about to light. "You and what army? Are you insane? Fucking hell, Sandy, those bastards rip you five new assholes before you can say shit!"<p>

She lifted her head again to give him a defying stare. All she got in return was one of his blank looks of utter indifference, which, after the amount of time she had spent in his company now, she recognised as his way of dealing with some kind of emotional uproar. His nostrils twitched, and Sandy dropped her eyes quickly. She also recognised that. He would explode any moment and she wanted to hide under Shrapnel's bed.

"Sandy you can't be serious!" Shrapnel swung his legs out of the bed and leaned forward. "It's suicide going there alone!"  
>"Yeah, and where can I get that army I need?"<br>"Nowhere. Just forget that fucking lunacy. You can't..."  
>"I'm fucking sick of being hounded by them like that!" With an angry sigh Sandy let her head fall back and spoke through clenched teeth. "I'm fucking sick of their ambushes every time I leave a metro station somewhere and I am especially fucking sick of them trying to kill my friends!"<br>Shrapnel shook his head with a snort. "Jesus, Sandy. I guess these friends can pretty well take care of themselves, don't you think?"  
>"Of cooourse", Sandy snapped, her voice rising to a pitch before she snorted and continued. "That's why I could wave hello to your cerebral cortex the other day!"<br>Shrapnel's face went white. "Fuck it! Fine! Next time I'll just let you get shot! That better?"

Sandy flinched and snapped her mouth shut as she felt tears of shame burn in her eyes as she realised what she had just done. She tried to take a breath, but it came out as a weak sob and she buried her face in her hands, trying to suppress the tears.  
>"Sandy..." Shrapnel sighed, but she spun around, let her head drop against his leg and held on to his knee as she sobbed helplessly. "Oh god... Shrapnel... I'm sorry..." Her voice teetered off into a chocked whisper. "Please... I'm sorry. You saved my life and I didn't even thank you yet and... and... sorry... I didn't mean it..."<br>Shrapnel exchanged a helpless glance with his friend who shook his head and rolled his eyes heavenwards with a shrug.  
>"Oh Sandy, come on..." Shrapnel said and clumsily patted her head. "Drop this shit. Please."<br>Letting go of his leg Sandy leaned back again and dragged both her hands down her face. "Sorry", she rasped. "This shit wears me out."

None of her friends knew what to say for a while until Flak finally broke the silence.  
>"Sandy, seriously, you can't go there alone. Might as well shoot yourself in the head and save you the trouble."<br>Sandy took a deep breath to force her voice into something resembling steady again. "Fine. And where do I get this army you talked about earlier?"  
>Flak shrugged. "Maybe not an army. But you're not going alone."<br>She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "And you are getting at what...?"  
>Flak leaned forward, resting his left elbow on his knee as he did so. "We're going with you."<br>"You?" She stared at him like a dumbstruck idiot for a moment, then at Shrapnel who, to be honest, looked no better than her. "We?"  
>"Sure you're not wanting to let her go alone, buddy?" Flak tilted his head. "We know she's batshit, and we can't do anything to stop her from going short of tying her down. But we can make sure she doesn't go alone."<br>Shrapnel's baffled expression morphed into a thoughtful frown. "You're right mate, but I don't think I'm in any shape yet to go anywhere."  
>Flak nodded. "I know. We just gotta wait until you are, bud. Gives us time to prepare and ready the supplies and everything."<p>

Sandy had been looking back and forth between the two and now lifted a hand. "Excuse me, gentlemen. Do I have a say in this matter?"  
>"No", Flak said, while simultaneously Shrapnel shook his head and said "Nope."<p>

At a loss for words, Sandy continued looking back and forth between the two of them until Flak leaned back, brought his cigarette to his mouth and inhaled deeply, only to stare at it with a completely bewildered frown as it failed to produce any smoke.  
>Sandy couldn't help it; upon seeing his facial expression she snapped and broke out in a hysterical giggle. Flak himself shook his head with a mildly embarrassed halfway grin and lit it, then blew a thoughtful cloud of smoke towards the ceiling.<p>

They went to sleep after a while in amicable silence.


	7. Chapter 7

_Sending out a friendly wave to any Fallout2 fans out there. Seriously, why this baby doesn't feature in F3 is anyone's guess._

* * *

><p>All in all it took three more weeks before they decided Shrapnel's eyesight was restored enough to venture it. Being the pack-rat that she was, Sandy had at one point found a pair of shades that she had kept although they were too large for her and equipped with these he could deal with the sunlight easily enough by now. His sense of balance, which had also suffered slightly with the head injury, was also completely restored by now and the three of them were ready to set off.<p>

As they reached the bottom of the stairs Flak checked the trigger of his submachine gun, lit another cigarette and mustered Sandy who adjusted her pack to which a repeater was strapped.  
>"That hunting rifle your only weapon?", he asked.<br>"Naw", she gave back with a secretive smile. "I've got a pistol, too."  
>"A pistol", Shrapnel repeated with raised eyebrows. "You're planning on drawing out the Talon headquarters with a hunting rifle and a pistol?"<p>

Sandy just smiled sweetly as she shrugged off her pack and started to rummage around in it.

"It's not a 10mm, if you were worried", she said, taking out a rather large bundle of cloth. "See, I found this in a half-collapsed cave somewhere east and south of Tenpenny Tower." She stared at the bundle in her hands, seemingly lost in thought. "There was a skeleton half buried under a couple of large rocks. And you know... I am pretty sure he was a Vault dweller. He had these immaculate teeth... and well, his pack was made of a fabric that I've never seen anywhere but in the Vault." She sat back on her heels, blinking into the rising sun. "Seeing that he would have little use for his things anymore I dug through the pack, and under spoiled and decomposed supplies and some shreds of what must have been spare clothing I found this baby." With these words she unwrapped the bundle and stood up again, a flicker of pride on her face as she showed off the gun.

It was big, the barrel ten inch long and square; the dull, silvery metal refusing to reflect any sunlight.

"Jesus", Flak whispered, eyes wide as he dropped his cigarette and held out his hand. "Is that what I think it is? May I?"  
>Shrapnel narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"<br>"I've only ever heard of these things", Flak said as Sandy handed him the gun. He let his fingers run along the barrel until he found the engraving on the other side. "I'll be damned", he whispered. "Fucking hell."  
>Sandy smiled the smile of proud ownership as Flak hefted the gun and aimed at nothing for a second. "I thought these didn't exist anymore."<br>Shrapnel craned his neck as Flak showed him the engraving and a whooping whistle escaped his lips. Desert Eagle?" The two gun nuts and weapon dealers exchanged a wide-eyed glance. "A fucking Desert Eagle?"  
>"What loads?", Flak asked without taking his eyes off the gun.<br>".44 magnums", Sandy gave back and, mildly amused, watched them fuss over the gun for a while until she decided that even if all boys love big toys, they needed to be on their way. "Uhm, guys?" she said, holding out her hand. "I know you're having tight pants right now, but can I have my gun back?"

They both looked at her with slightly guilty expressions before Flak handed her the pistol with only the tiniest bit of hesitation. "Take good care of that beauty", he said, still in awe.  
>"I do", Sandy said as she holstered it. "Although I'm pretty amazed at how good a shape it's in."<br>"These things were made to last", Flak replied. "And they were designed to perform in hot and dusty environments. They ain't named these babies Desert Eagles for nothing."

Sandy shouldered her pack again with a nod and a smile, casting both of them a determined look. "Let's go kill some Talons."

With grins and shakes of their heads Flak and Shrapnel set off after her; yet they found the sight before them hard to bear. In wordless agreement they both moved to flank her and walk beside her for the rest of the journey, as none of the two could stomach the sight of her ass in black leather pants and the Desert Eagle at her hip simultaneously.

_**xoxoxoxox**_

The journey turned out to be rather uneventful; apart from a few of the usual radscorpions and molerats, feral dogs and once a couple of raiders, nothing serious got in their way. Which was fine by them, as they could do well without being torn apart by deathclaws or turned into goo by some enclave soldier's energy gun.

They finally reached the Talon Company's headquarters on the second day shortly before midnight, cautiously moving low to the ground under the cover of darkness with Sandy constantly checking the radar of her Pip Boy. "There's one", she whispered and pointed towards a risen platform barricaded with a wall of sand sacks. "And two others are moving back and forth over there at the fence."  
>The two men beside her nodded silently, and they kept on observing, crouched behind a loose pile of rocks for cover.<br>Shrapnel leaned sideward and cast a glance towards the fence. "It's dogs. Fuck, they've got dogs."  
>The three of them exchanged a worried glance.<br>"Nothing for it", Flak whispered. "What with the dogs, we've got no chance at surprise."  
>"But we've not got the hell of a chance storming the place either", Sandy hissed back.<br>"I'm not talking about storming in", Flak gave back as he cautiously crept past her and Shrapnel. "But we can't creep in, either." He took one of the grenades from his belt and weighed it in his hand, keeping his eyes trained firmly on the two dogs. "Well, here we go. We didn't come out here for a picnic. Ready?"  
>"Ready", Shrapnel gave back, checking the load of his guns. He was equipped with a Chinese assault rifle and as a backup a sawed-off shotgun that was heavily used but also well kept.<br>"Ready", Sandy whispered, her Desert Eagle firmly in both hands. "Time to kick some serious ass."  
>"Here it comes," Flak said, pulled out the safety pin with his teeth and threw the grenade in a wide trajectory over the fence where it landed precisely between the two dogs before exploding and sending both of them into the big soft doggie basket up in the sky.<br>"My word", Sandy said, baffled. "Nice shot, Flak."  
>"Thanks", he gave back with a grin as he set back against the rock and hefted his SMG.<p>

Behind them, the guard on the platform was yelling alarm, and Sandy turned around, stood up and fired two shots before crouching down again with her teeth bared. "Got him."  
>Her two friends grinned appreciatively. "Good work", Shrapnel said.<br>"Thanks."  
>All three of them took some deep breaths, checked their loads and then left their cover as low and fast as possible, heading for a broken wall behind the platform. On their other side was a flight of stairs downward where they could hear a door open. Without missing a beat Flak triggered another grenade and threw it down the stairs. They heard someone scream "FUCK!" and off it went, followed by a promising silence.<br>"Ready guys?", Sandy asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.  
>They both nodded with grim smiles, and on the count of three they left their cover and headed for the stairs. The door was slightly ajar, the body of the merc who had been kissed by Flak's grenade propping it open. They slipped through, all three of them now breathing a bit more heavily.<p>

"Guys?", Sandy whispered as they stood there. Both of them cast her a cautious glance, but Sandy went on without looking at either of them. "Just in case... just if this all goes to hell in a hand basket. I just want you to know that you're the best. The best."  
>Flak spat out his butt end and absentmindedly patted her rump while Shrapnel leaned closer to her ear. "You know what", he chuckled. "When this is over you can give us a kiss."<br>Casting him a boring glare over his shoulder before lifting his SMG Flak stepped into the corridor. Shaking her head with a small and embarrassed grin, Sandy followed him with Shrapnel guarding their rear.


	8. Chapter 8

There is one good thing about bunkers: Their thick walls. These walls, while protective, also block out sounds so that apart from the guard at the door, no one had heard the shots and the grenade and in the first two corridors, the three of them caught the Talons completely unawares, mowing them down where they stood. Of course, after their successful opening move their advantage of surprise was gone when the commotion, the noise and the shots began to alert more of them. Still, riding on a high of adrenaline and something else that always pushed her up in fights, Sandy didn't pause to think anymore; it was just duck, cover, shoot, reload, check and trying to avoid ricochets – fighting with automated weapons in narrow corridors was a very outstanding kind of hell in itself.

Flak peeked around a corner, then swung back, pressing his back against a wall. "Turret." He blinked a drop of sweat out of his eye.  
>Sandy went into a low crouch to peek around the corner as well, noticing a doorway halfway down the corridor. She narrowed her eyes, thinking if they should risk it and take the turret out when another thought struck her.<br>"Flak."  
>"What."<br>"Remember Harkness talking about repairing the auto-turrets?"  
>"Yep. So what?"<br>"Would these babies contain the spare parts you need?"  
>He crouched down beside her. "Probably. What are you up to?"<br>She took a deep breath. "Firstly, being really, really fast. Follow me." Then she got up and hightailed around the corner and down the corridor, dashing into the room even as the turret turned and aimed for her.  
>"Fuck!" Flak exchanged a horrified glance with Shrapnel, then shrugged and followed her lead. With the turret already facing in their direction now it began firing at once, but miraculously the two of them made it into the small cabinet unharmed.<p>

"Give me cover", Sandy hissed as she pulled out the keyboard under the computer screen. It was the green shimmer it emanated that had given her that idea in the first place.  
>Flak and Shrapnel positioned themselves on either side of the door while Sandy stuffed her pistol into her belt and started hacking into the keyboard. It took a few minutes, but suddenly the turret beside the door hummed, and after a triple chirp, went out. "Good job Sandy", Shrapnel whispered.<br>Sandy smiled triumphantly and hoisted her gun again. "Let's go."

They advanced with more caution now, the corridor widened into a large room of several stories and a set of stairs winding downward along a wall. It also contained three of the fuckers, and to their horror one of them had a flame thrower. They jumped back into the hallway as the flames hissed past, and with a grunt Flak fell back against the wall, tore off two grenades from his belt and threw them both with one hand into the room. Screams of several men mingled with the explosions and heavy clattering, and after a moment of silence one of them came for them armed with an assault rifle but impaired by a heavy limp with blood dripping down his leg. With an angry scream that merc fired on sight and Sandy and would have been hit heads on if Shrapnel hadn't reacted faster than her and pulled her back around the corner with a violent jerk at her jacket.

They could hear him curse and reload his gun around the corner as they pressed their backs against the wall, and after taking a deep breath Sandy spun around the corner, fired three shots and jerked back as a shower of bullets whizzed past. A few bits of plaster were knocked off the corner just as she dived behind back it and one of the little chips hit Sandy's face just above the left eyebrow with a stinging pain.

Breathing heavily Sandy repeated the manoeuvre, and with sheer luck hit the merc's chest this time, seeing as she was shooting out of a spinning movement. As he collapsed she didn't dove back but determinedly pulled the trigger again, pumped his face full of .44s and watched with a satisfied grunt as he fell backwards and tumbled down the stairs like a ragdoll. She followed him, stopping in a crouch at the top of the stairs where she saw that the third of them was just picking up the flamer again. She aimed, but at that moment she heard Shrapnel's rifle go off behind her. For good measure she fired two more bullets into his already collapsing form as well, then turned her head to grin up at her friend. Only then did it occur to them that Flak hadn't followed.

They both spun around to head back into the corridor when Flak made his way out, but he was pale and his teeth bared as he cradled his left arm to his chest with the right one.  
>"Flak?" Shrapnel was at his side in an instant. "Oh fucking shit."<br>Sandy stuffed her pistol into her belt and took Flak's hand, straightening the arm and wincing. The whole forearm and his hand were covered in bright red, weeping blisters.  
>With an angry grunt she shrugged off her pack, tore into it and produced two stim packs that she rammed unceremoniously into his arm, ignoring his hiss of pain.<p>

All three of them took the enforced break as they waited for the stim packs to take effect to catch their breath as they passed a bottle of water round while they kept their ears peeled for any sounds around them. When Flak declared he was all right again, they shouldered their packs, checked their loads and weapons and made their way down the stairs as silently as they could. The door at the bottom was open and they could hear another voice.

"Frankie? Jack? What's going on? Bob?"  
>Flak and Shrapnel were planted on one side of the doorway and Sandy on the other when the steps came closer. "Oy guys, did you get the asshole?"<br>Sandy spun around into the doorframe and pointed the pistol at his crotch. "Best regards from the asshole", she snarled and pulled the trigger, sending another bullet after it as he collapsed in a screaming heap, this time into the back of his head, cutting his scream off very abruptly. With a snort she reloaded her gun when she realised that both Flak and Shrapnel goggled at her with rigid faces.  
>She mouthed a silent 'what?' at them and tossed her head back with a grin when she saw Shrapnel unconsciously tug at his crotch. She stepped between the two of them. "Come on", she whispered. "I'd never do that to one of you two guys."<br>The two unfroze with slightly nervous grins, but after a couple of seconds, rallied themselves from the disturbing experience of witnessing a man having shot his dick into a bloody pulp.

After a couple more breaths, they ducked into the corridor only to be taken under fire again by another turret. This corridor was decidedly longer, and they tried to avoid being hit by zigzagging down the narrow hallway until they found the doorway into the small room containing the control terminal. Sandy dragged herself in after them with a hiss of pain; a ricochet had grazed her calf. She waved the concern of her friends aside with an angry flick of her hand, rammed a stim pack into her leg and gritted her teeth as she turned towards the control terminal.  
>It took her decidedly longer this time, accompanied by a lot of cursing and swearing she managed at last. Shrapnel patted her shoulder. "Good work, Sandy. I had no idea a Vault girl like you knew that many dirty words."<br>Sandy chuckled. "I guess some things I can pick up easily enough."  
>"Your leg all right?", Flak asked with a crooked smile, and she nodded. "Good. Let's get this over with."<p>

Down the corridor and another set of stairs they encountered no one and nothing, only to run into a whole bunch of the bastards in the last room at the very end which left them no other option but a classic, violent shootout with the only thing shifting odds into their favour their opponents' surprise. Flak threw his last grenade and Sandy dropped onto her knee to have a better aim and to be out of the fire lines of her friends as they emptied their rounds into the surprised six Talon mercs, all of them engulfed by a hellish chaos of shots, ducks for cover and screams of fury and pain both.

"Fuck, it's that bitch from Burke's contract!", one of them suddenly screamed, but even as Sandy was about to dive behind an upturned table one of the mercs still standing made a move for her, and being out of ammo, careened into her with the butt of his assault rifle extended before him.  
>Sandy's left shoulder exploded in a hell of white, fiery pain as he rammed her and she could do nothing but drop her weapon and scream. This scream, however, alerted her two companions who, in turn, frenzied by anguish and roaring in fury, completely disregarded their own safety and just fired and fired and fired until at last almost everything in the room lay in ruins, including the mercs.<p>

In the deafening stillness after the last shot Sandy's whimper of pain made both of them flinch, and within seconds they were both at her side.  
>"Sandy?" Flak took her by her shoulder and she wailed. "Oh shit."<br>"Sandy", Shrapnel fell in. "What..."  
>"Fuck", Sandy gasped. "My shoulder... ah shit... The fucking bastard dislocated my fucking arm!"<br>The two men exchanged a glance, both of them had been confronted with something like it before, and without further ado, Flak pulled her in, locked one arm around her waist and the other round her head, pressing it into his shoulder. Shrapnel had dropped his weapon and took her hand and, gritting his teeth, took her hand and tore it upward and out with one, ruthless movement. They both winced at the wet crunching as the joint slid into place again.

Dizzy with pain Sandy screamed into Flak's shoulder only to collapse with a helpless sob as the pain instantly ebbed off into a dull throbbing. Flak patted her back a couple of times while Shrapnel still held her hand, running his thumb across the back of it. They remained like that until Sandy was able to move again. "Shit", she wheezed as she peeled herself off Flak and laboured to her feet. "Shitshitshit." Then, coming slowly to her senses again she looked around.

"Guys", she whispered after a moment. "We did it."  
>The men exchanged a glance, and then looked at Sandy who was grinning like a loony.<br>"We did it", she said again, shaking her head, her mad grin softening into a disbelieving smile. "We did it."  
>Shrapnel and Flak slowly picked themselves up again as well, reloading their weapons and holstering them as they realised that this was it, indeed.<p>

Slowly, Flak walked up to the body of the only one of the mercs who had been wearing a combat helmet and nudged him with his foot before kneeling down beside him and rummaging through his pockets. He found what he was looking for and looked up at Sandy again with a small smile of triumph, waving a piece of paper. "Best bet he was the boss. This is signed by someone initialled B. and offers two thousand caps on extermination of your sweet little ass."

Moving cautiously because of her shoulder Sandy walked up to him and looked at the document. "Rat-bastard. I should've offed him that day. Would've saved me a lot of trouble and done the world a favour."  
>"I have an idea", Flak said in a low voice, and Sandy had never seen that facial expression before as he nastily smiled at her.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

On their way out of the bunker they didn't forget the two turret cannons; as they had spent most of their ammo on their way in they had some room to spare in their packs. Sandy couldn't suppress a grin as she watched Flak, balancing on Shrapnel's shoulders and using his combat knife as a screwdriver, cursed and swore heartily as he laboriously dismantled the thing and threw the parts down to her to stow away in their packs.

To be honest, all three of them were grinning as they left the bunker again into the light of a day that had just broken, riding on the high of adrenaline, victory and having survived danger of death repeatedly. Taking a deep breath Sandy took a few steps forward and then turned around to see Flak lighting a cigarette and holding out his lighter to Shrapnel who leaned over it to light up his own smoke with a puff of his cheeks. His eyes fell upon her when he straightened up again and following his gaze, Flak looked up as well.

Sandy felt her smile falter and hear heart tumble into her stomach when they both looked at her, and to hell if she would ever forget the feeling of a liquid fire rippling through her whole body for a second at that moment. She hastily looked away, embarrassed and unsettled, when the two of them made their way up the stairs and came to halt beside her, silently flanking her on both sides. She swallowed and licked her lips, her throat suddenly dry.  
>"Thank you, guys", she whispered, mortified that her voice refused to obey her. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Thank you. I never would've made it without you."<br>"We know", Flak replied, his voice pitched so low it was hardly audible. He was chewing his cigarette while puffing his cheeks and stared straight ahead as he exhaled very slowly, blowing a long, bluish cloud that was carried away by the breeze.  
>Shrapnel was busily fumbling with the trigger of his gun, his lips clamped around the cigarette.<p>

Sandy closed her eyes, realising how highly aware she was of the two men that stood at her sides, close and just not touching her, enveloping her in the smells of leather, gun powder, cigarette smoke and male sweat. For a second she wondered if she smelt as enticing to them when she realised what she was thinking. It would not happen. It would never happen, but she also knew she would go to pieces if she couldn't touch them now. Her eyes still closed, she cleared her throat again. "Can you gimme a hug, please?"

For two or three heartbeats nothing happened, and she had no way of knowing that the two exchanged a very long and thoughtful look in that time. Then she felt the men beside her move and was suddenly wedged in between the two of them; one hand was resting on her shoulder and another on her lower back, just under her pack. And yet, this embrace lacked all the embarrassed awkwardness and frozen stiffness she remembered from the first time; the hands were not completely still, and she could feel Shrapnel's chin touch her hair while Flak's scratchy cheek brushed her temple. More, oh god I want more of this, she thought, despite the better knowledge that it was impossible. Anyway, she had to break this moment or she would go mad. It was a deed of desperation as she opened her mouth again. "What about that kiss?", she asked as mischievously as she could.

Shrapnel was the first to break away, and he looked down with a smile she couldn't identify before staring past her again. "Nah, not a good idea", he said. Crestfallen, Sandy scolded herself for destroying the moment despite the fact she had needed to, to avoid suffocating emotionally, when he added: "Not here. Ask me that again when I don't have to watch my back."  
>Swallowing a lump in her throat Sandy took a step back when Flak moved away too, yet he said nothing, just gave her a long, thoughtful look under half lowered lids before a corner of his mouth twitched and he winked at her before looking away.<p>

After a few moments of uncomfortable, tangible silence Sandy ran a hand through her hair, took a deep breath and checked the load of her pistol before shrugging her pack into place. "Right." Another deep breath. "Next stop, Tenpenny Tower."

_**xoxoxoxox**_

The uncomfortable silence accompanied them for a while longer; in fact, until they reached Tenpenny Tower where Sandy activated the intercom.  
>"What is it?"<br>"Special delivery for Mr. Burke."  
>"Gimme a moment."<br>The gate opened and the grumpy security chief came forth, his rifle pointing down. "What's that delivery?"  
>Sandy put down the small metal box they had lugged here from the Talon quarters. "Here. And it's to be opened by none other than Mr. Burke himself."<br>"Of course, of course", Gustavo replied. I'll have it brought up to him right away."  
>Sandy smiled and saluted with two fingers. "See you around, Chief." Then she left; slowly, inconspicuously and seemingly completely at ease, her smile turning into a face-splitting grin accompanied by an evil glint in her eyes when the gate had closed behind her. It was kind of satisfying to imagine Burke's face when he opened that box and found the Talon Company's leader's head in it, Burke's neatly folded letter stuck between his lips.<p>

"Jesus, I sure would love to be there when he opens that", Sandy said as she reached her two friends again. "Flak, that was a brilliant idea. Totally evil. And totally brilliant."  
>The thus praised friend just shrugged. "I can be one hell of a bastard if I have to."<br>"Yeah, and three hells of one if you don't", Shrapnel said and avoided Flak's mock blow with a grin.

Sandy had to chuckle when Flak gave his friend a crooked smile, incredibly relieved that the ice had finally broken. They set off again, but in a much lighter mood, easing into relaxed conversation again and growing a little careless in the process. This came to their awareness when they were ambushed by a handful of raiders because Sandy had forgotten to check her radar, being engrossed in the conversation about weapons in general and her Desert Eagle in particular. But what she also was, after almost a year out in the Wasteland, was combat trained enough to rally herself instantly. She put two of them down on her own before the fight was over.

When reloading his SMG Flak spat out his butt end and looked at Sandy again. "You know kid", he said thoughtfully, "I never thought you'd be that good to have around at my back in a fight."  
>Savouring this, outright basking in one of his rare compliments Sandy smiled, and was a little surprised to see him smile back. He smiled so rarely.<br>"Oh come on Flak, wait until we're back home", Shrapnel said in mock despair as he walked past them. Then he winked at Sandy and patted her backside. Taking a breath, but without missing a beat Sandy reciprocated that gesture and spun around when Flak barked out a laugh.  
>"Jesus", he chortled and wiped his eyes. "Jesus, buddy, your expression just now was absolutely priceless."<br>The two friends exchanged a glance that turned into a grin, then they both broke out laughing again and guffawing they high-fived, letting it turn into a squeeze of hands before dropping their arms again.

Still chuckling, Flak shook his head and lit another smoke as he set off again. He looked back at them over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"  
>Shaking his head with a grin Shrapnel followed him, and Sandy fell in behind him, a self-conscious but pleased smile on her face.<p>

_**xoxoxoxox**_

It was late afternoon when they decided they needed a break, and they found a somewhat shielded spot but didn't bother with building a campfire. Shrapnel helped Sandy out of her pack as her shoulder was hurting like fire now; she had to sit down and take off her jacket to apply a stim pack. After rolling herself up in a blanket with her back against a rock, she was out cold in almost an instant.

Her two friends sat up a little while longer in silent companionship, sharing another smoke. Shrapnel had a little nap as well, and after being awoken by Flak shortly after sundown, he kept second watch while Flak had a lie-down. They didn't wake Sandy up who was still a silent, quiet bundle of blanket with only a few hairs visible. When she awoke, checking her Pip Boy in confusion because it was dark and discovering it was shortly before midnight, she stared at the other two who were sitting side by side with their backs leaning against a rock, silently smoking.

"Why didn't you wake me up?", she asked, annoyed and disappointed in herself.  
>Flak shrugged. "You seemed to need it, kid."<br>"Yeah, kid", Sandy muttered. "Sure. Just a kid that needs taking care of. I thought I was part of the team."  
>"Jesus, Sandy", Flak said with a shake of his head. "We just wanted to do you a favour."<br>Sandy got up and rubbed a hand down her face with a sigh. Then she stared at her feet for a moment. "Sorry." With a shrug, she turned around and walked away, heading for another cluster of rocks.  
>"Where do you think you're going?", Shrapnel asked, both of them already half-way up onto their feet.<br>Sandy didn't turn around. "I'm having a piss, guys. Can I do that without company? Thanks."  
>They sat down again, engrossed in their smokes to cover their feeling of mild embarrassment.<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Seeing as all three of them were awake now they decided they might as well be on their way again; they would reach Rivet City in the early morning if nothing else delayed them underway. And since most creatures of the Wasteland were not active at night, or not as active, nothing did. They crossed the Potomac at the Anchorage memorial and made their way south along the riverbank, the only sounds their footsteps crunching in the gravel and the sloshing of the river in its bed. At one point, Flak held up a hand and went into a crouch, the others following his lead instantly.  
>"If I see that right, there's some kind of Raider encampment over there", he said in a low voice.<br>Sandy smiled a tiny, satisfied smile. "Yep, it is. But there's no raiders anymore."  
>Flak slowly turned his head to look at her under raised eyebrows while Shrapnel chuckled beside her. "Jesus... beats me why everyone calls you a saint. You're a badass and a half."<br>Sandy shrugged. "I'm only badass with the bad guys. Everyone else and I'm as sweet as apple pie."  
>Chewing on his cigarette Flak didn't reply and got up again. Shrapnel got up as well, checked his rifle and cast a glance over his shoulder at Sandy who checked the trigger of her pistol. To their left, the first grey light of dawn showed and they decided they'd better hurry to reach the safety of Rivet City before these ruins swarmed with mutants and other vermin.<p>

They reached Rivet City when the first ray of true light crept over the ruins, and heard the shots and screams long before they rounded the last rubble heap. Muttering and cursing under his breath, Flak unholstered his SMG while Shrapnel slung his rifle from his back. In a crouch they advanced cautiously, to find themselves in the middle of a serious shootout between security and a handful of mutants. But with them now falling into their backs the fight was over quickly.

Harkness greeted them with visible relief when they had climbed up the stairs. "I can hardly express how glad I am that you chose that moment to reappear", he said. "Impeccable timing."  
>"Yeah", Shrapnel said. "And we've got some presents, too."<br>The security chief lifted one eyebrow.  
>Flak finished lighting his smoke and pointed up. "We've brought a shitload of spare parts for those turrets, chief", he said then.<br>"I take it your venture was a success, then", Harkness replied with an appreciative smile. "Respect."  
>Sandy smiled as she passed him. "For what it's worth, there's one threat less in the Wasteland now."<br>"And we got you to thank for it", he gave back, but Sandy shook her head and cast a glance first at Shrapnel, then at Flak.  
>"I had considerable help, chief. Without these two guys, I'd never have made it."<p>

Harkness followed her gaze, but Flak stared upwards with narrowed eyes to where the broken auto-turrets were mounted while Shrapnel was busying himself with his lighter which refused to cooperate. He then looked up to what Flak was staring at and stood beside him. "Are you thinking of getting to work right away?"  
>"Right now I am thinking of having some breakfast and about half a dozen mugs of coffee, chief", Flak replied, narrowing his eyes while still staring up. "After that, though..."<br>"Coffee", Sandy sighed. "Sounds like a plan, man."  
>Flak chuckled and holstered his gun, then walked over to his friend who was by now calling his lighter a couple of very foul names while repeatedly shaking it, lit up his own lighter and held it out to him.<br>Shrapnel faltered, then held his smoke to the small flame while puffing his cheeks and muttering a thanks.

The three of them entered the marketplace, watched by Harkness who still stared at the door for a long while after it had closed behind them. When the security chief finally turned away, it was with a small and wistful smile on his face. He owed Sandy a lot; she had saved him, quite a while ago already, had saved him from a fate that was worse than slavery. After hesitating for a long time she had finally uttered the code that had restored his memory and even though it wasn't easy sometimes to deal with two sets of memories, his circuits and memory modules could handle the split personality better than a human brain could have done. That was a relief at least.

And a relief also was that he finally knew who, and what, Zimmer was. But the biggest relief of all had been that she had given Zimmer a spare part, the one that Pinkerton had removed, and had told the old bastard that he was dead. Had Zimmer found out who he was he would only have had to utter the activation code to reset his factory settings, and Harkness would have been history. But she had covered him up and given him freedom. It was probably not that wrong to say that he owed her everything he was and had right now.

She was one of the few people in the world who were too good for their own good. The state she had been in when she had returned from the Pitt had him deeply worried; and even though he had been glad enough that Flak and Shrapnel had with no hesitation taken up the positions of her protectors he still had kept a weather eye on them, yet they had surprised him and everyone else on the ship with not taking advantage of the girl. And he had to admit he might have misjudged them. They were tough as balls, those two, but with hearts of gold.

And damned he would be if he didn't see, or thought he could see, what was going on there. The question was if they could see it, but what could he do about it? He would do anything to return the favour Sandy had done him, but this was too private and not his place to intervene. And the human mind is different from an android's; while he saw what was the only logical choice, they would maybe disagree. Humans were difficult like that and very apt at making themselves unhappy, not by not listening to their inner voice – but by listening to too many.

Shaking his head he set off to get some reinforcements to clear up the bodies.

_**xoxoxoxox**_

After the three of them had enjoyed a couple of coffees in silent companionship Flak declared that his fingers itched to get the turrets up and asked the other two if they would mind giving him a hand.  
>"I'd love to, but what can I do?" Sandy asked after sipping the last drop out of her mug. "I can barely tell one end of a wrench from the other, and..." here she grinned a little embarrassed, "...and I really don't have a head for heights."<br>"The things still need connecting." Flak put down his own mug. "And if you can't tell a wrench from a screwdriver, heck, I can hack a turret control terminal as well as I can shit fresh apple pies." He winked. "There's a place for everyone on the team, kid."  
>Sandy shook her head with a smile as all three of them got up.<br>"Shrap", Flak said, thoughtfully scratching his chin. "Can you get the spare parts together? I get my tools, and Sandy, can you go to Holmes and organize rope? Lots of rope."  
>"Aye aye", Sandy gave back, glad she could help. "You want anything else?"<br>Flak pursed his lips for a moment. Then he shook his head with a half-way grin and turned away to head for his stall. Sandy watched him, arms akimbo, and shook her head with a crooked smile and a couple of butterflies in her belly. Her belly almost exploded however and she startled violently as suddenly a voice directly beside her ear whispered: "Stop flirting Sandy, everyone's looking."  
>Shrapnel winked at her as he was walking past and she stared after him as well, her heartbeat only slowly calming down. Those two... scumbags... they had turned the tables! They were flirting with her... and she was suddenly completely defenceless against it. With a deep breath she went over to Seagraves, who was watching her with a mildly amused expression, to organize rope. Lots of rope.<p>

Equipped with three coils of rope she met up with the two of them on top of the bridge tower a little later on. Flak was having a last quiet smoke before he put on a cartridge belt that he had modified so it now held his tools. Then he took one of the ropes and slung it twice around his midriff, tying it up with a knot. He repeated that with the other rope and tied both ropes, one on his right and one on his left side, to the railing and double checked these knots too. In the meantime Shrapnel had been tying the third rope to a bucket and positioned himself beside the wooden crate that contained the spare parts. "All set?", he asked then and Flak nodded. Cigarette clamped firmly between his lips he abseiled himself down to the first turret. Sandy went back into the bridge tower where the control terminal was.


	11. Chapter 11

As she tapped away at the keyboard she could hear Flak calling up orders for parts and could hear the metal scraping of the bucket being lowered and pulled up again. It took her the better part of half an hour to figure out her part of the job and she furiously wished for some bubble gum or gum drops, or at least a cup of coffee... anything to help her concentrate on this. "Come on, you bloody thing." Some of the keys on the old console were half stuck and reacted sluggishly, either no letter appeared or the letter appeared twice or thrice.

A chirp, finally. "Got you, you bastard." The first thing she did was resetting the password, then she checked the turret control.

...  
>CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE<p>

CANNON TWO, STATUS: OFFLINE

...

"Sandy?"  
>Sandy walked over to the window and stared up. "What?"<br>Flak pulled a screw tight and looked down. "That should do it! Anything?"  
>"Nope, sorry!" She cast another glance at the screen. "Still offline!"<br>She could see him mutter and heft the screwdriver as he set off re-connecting the wiring. Another glance at the screen told her nothing had happened yet. Suddenly she saw a flicker.

...

CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE

CANNON TWO, STATUS: ERROR

...

"You're doing _something_ right!", she yelled out of the window. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard him snort at that. Keeping her eyes firmly on the screen, Sandy bated her breath.

...

CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE

CANNON TWO, STATUS: OFFLINE

...

CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE

CANNON TWO, STATUS: ERROR

...

"Now?"  
>"Nope!"<br>She was sure he said something that started with fuck. Not that it surprised her. Then she heard a bang, the unmistakable sound of metal hitting metal. "Work, you fuckstick!"

...

CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE

CANNON TWO, STATUS: ERROR. WARNING: SENSOR NOT FOUND.

...

"Flak?" She leaned a little forward, but not too far. She had no stomach to see him dangle from two flimsy, elderly ropes roughly thirty yards above ground. "It says sensor not found!"  
>"What? Oh for fuck's sake."<br>More time passed. The screen flickered again.

...

CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE

CANNON TWO, STATUS: ERROR

...

CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE

CANNON TWO, STATUS: ONLINE, ENTER TARGET DATA:_

...

"Yes!" With a grin, she leaned out again to see Flak stare down at her with a hopeful expression. She gave him a thumbs-up. "Did it!"  
>He returned the gesture and pushed himself off the wall to swing over to the other turret. Sandy in turn hurried back to the terminal to work on the target data, a tedious job with the faulty, sluggish keyboard.<p>

...

SAVE TARGET DATA?

...

"Of course, you bloody ass!"

...

TARGET DATA SAVED. EXECUTE?

...

"Are you slow off the mark, you dipshit? Yehees!"

...

EXECUTING_

...

TARGET DATA INPUT SUCESSFUL. PLEASE ENTER TURRET ACTIVATION CODE_

...

"WHAT!" Sandy stopped her fist shortly before it could hit the keyboard because that would not have improved its performance. In her despair, Sandy tapped the keys 1 2 3.

...

TURRET ACTIVATION CODE SET. ACTIVATE TURRET?

...

"This is impossible", Sandy moaned before hitting the enter key.

...

ENTER TURRET ACTIVATION CODE_

...

"1 2 3, you bloody dumbass", she snarled as she hammered down onto the keyboard. "I just told you so."

...

ACTIVATING TURRET_

...

TURRET ONLINE_

...

READY_

...

She made another status check.

...

CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE

CANNON TWO, STATUS: ONLINE. TURRET TARGET DATA ACCEPTED. AUTOMATED ENEMY CONTROL ACTIVE.

...

"Finally. Jesus Christ on a piece of toast."  
>The terminal chirped, as if in reply. Sandy smiled, but narrowed her eyes as the screen flickered.<p>

...

CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE

CANNON TWO, STATUS: SCANNING

...

"Okay buddy, scan away", she said sprightly.

...

CANNON ONE, STATUS: OFFLINE

CANNON TWO, STATUS: ENGAGING TARGET

...

"What?" Her hands suddenly moist, she ran over to the window. Above her, one of the turrets slowly swung around and started pointing down. Looking into the direction where it pointed, she saw a movement and then heard a scream. A mutant. No... two mutants. "Oh fuck! Oh no..." She leaned out of the window. "FLAK!"  
>He looked down, cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "What?"<br>She pointed down. "MUTANT!"  
>The cigarette fell as he spun his head around. "Fuck."<p>

The mutants in turn had now seen the man hanging from the bridge tower and opened fire. The same went for the newly activated turret, but that had its own disadvantage as Flak was hanging below it and the ropes he was suspended by could easily get in the firing line if it turned into the wrong direction. Flak in turn was grabbing the ropes, one in each hand, and walked up the walls again to be out of the way. Shrapnel up on the bridge tower took hold of the ropes to helped him up and Sandy watched this manoeuvre anxiously, holding her breath, when things turned into an absolute clusterfuck.

It was a freak accident. A bullet, flying in just the right angle, or the wrong one, depending on your point of view, ricocheted off the wall beside Flak and cut through one of the ropes. Thus being violently thrown off balance Flak lost his grip on the other rope and fell. The second rope caught him, but even up here Sandy could hear his howl of pain as he landed with the full power of his fall in the sling around his torso. It was cut off abruptly however a split-second later with a heavy thump. Numb with shock Sandy stared now down where Flak had violently hit the wall of the bridge tower which had knocked him unconscious. Now he was dangling helplessly at the end of the rope like a worm on a hook, swinging back and forth while one of the two mutants used him for target practice while the other tried to take out the turret.

Shrapnel in turn had watched the fall off his friend in similar numb shock for a second. With a scream of anguish he now grabbed the rope and pulled to hoist him up again and out of the danger zone. Between two of the hoists however, as he took a breath, he suddenly saw to his horror one of the strands in the rope rupture with a sizzling sound. "SANDY!" He yelled at the top of his lungs as he looked down. Her head popped out of the window, anxiety written all over her face.  
>"The rope's about to go as well! I can't get him up! You gotta pull him in!"<br>Within seconds Sandy was drenched in cold sweat as she set her left foot onto the window frame. Not only were there still bullets whizzing past, although one of the mutants had succumbed to the turret and the two security guards down on the bridge, but because there was a sheer drop of some twenty-five yards below her.

Shrapnel had slung the rope a couple of times around his wrist and pulled again so Sandy could reach their friend's unconscious form. Summoning all her strength and forcing her terrible vertigo away as good as she could she managed to get a grip on his belt with one hand and on his vest with the other. At that moment the second rope gave and with a scream Sandy let herself drop backwards, pushing herself back with her feet as well, and both of them toppled helter-skelter through the window and landed in a heap on the floor in the control room.

Cursing and swearing and numb with shock Sandy crawled out under Flak's limp body and turned him onto his back. His right cheek and temple were swollen and turning blue, but he was still breathing. Sandy pulled his knife out of the sheath at his boot and cut through the ropes that were cutting deeply into his flesh by now. Apart from the bruised head he was unharmed, at least outwardly. What internal injuries the impact or the ropes could have caused him, however, Sandy couldn't even begin to guess. A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, but if that indicated an internal injury or had been caused by the impact she couldn't tell.

"Oh god... please..." Swallowing heavily, Sandy ran a hand across his cheek, then down his throat. She unbuckled the cartridge belt and shoved his shirt up to prod his belly a few times, but she could find no hardened places nor places where things felt softer than they should. The only thing she found were some minor rope burns under his rib cage. In lack of any alternatives, she then pressed her ear to his lower abdomen, facing his legs, and listened intensely.  
>Suddenly she heard his voice, hoarse yet mildly amused. "You know, you give a man a lot of funny ideas, doing that."<br>She shot upright with a burning face. "You..." Giving the job of keeping appearances up as hopeless she just let her shoulders drop. "How do you feel?"  
>"Like shit", was the reply. "But if you do that again I might forget about it for a while."<br>Sandy was just thinking of a smart reply when the door flew open and Shrapnel staggered in, a panicked expression on his face. He faltered as he saw Flak lying on his back with his torso bared and Sandy kneeling next to his belt with one hand on his belly. He opened his mouth a couple of times, then crossed his arms. "Sorry guys, am I interrupting something?"  
>"No", Sandy snapped, but unison with her Flak chuckled a "Yep."<br>"Asshole", she hissed and staggered to her feet, her face burning hotter than it ever had before, and pushing Shrapnel out of the way was out of the door in less than three heartbeats.

Both men watched the door with a thoughtful frown.  
>"Might have overplayed it a bit", Flak said after a long while.<br>"She'll come around", Shrapnel replied equally thoughtful before helping his bruised and battered friend onto his feet again. With Flak draping an arm over his shoulders and Shrapnel clamping an arm around Flak's torso they managed the long, slow and painful decent down the stairway to head for the clinic.

Behind them, the monitor of the control terminal flickered.

...

TARGET EXTERMINATION COMPLETE

...


	12. Chapter 12

Upon hearing them stagger down the corridor Doctor Preston put on a pair of gloves with a heavy sigh and glared at them over the rim of his glasses as Shrapnel stumbled in and all but dragged Flak with him into the clinic. "You really are making a habit of this, aren't you."  
>Shrapnel lowered his friend onto the trencher where Flak flopped onto his back with a heavy, heartfelt groan.<br>"What is it this time?", Preston said as he started treatment with a dose of painkiller. Listening to Shrapnel's explanation, interspaced with a few muttered comments by Flak, Preston prodded Flak's abdomen and finally shook his head with a sigh and began to connect several silicon pads with sensor cables from a complicated looking machine beside him. After sticking these silicon pads onto various spots on Flak's abdomen he activated the machine and watched the two monitors for a long while before nodding.

"You've had a bastard's luck, really", Preston finally said. "Now let's see. Between the three of you, you've survived a severe drug poisoning, a head shot and internal injuries from a heavy fall." He crossed his arms. "Are you enjoying yourselves?"  
>"Not particularly, no", Flak rasped from the trencher while Shrapnel just bit down on the cigarette he was trying to light.<br>"Honestly, you three could make a whole soccer team of guardian angels despair."  
>Flak and Shrapnel exchanged a more or less helpless glance.<br>"Anyway, Flak, I wouldn't be surprised if you start vomiting blood. Don't be too alarmed at that, unless it's a lot of blood and it's bright red. Come and see me if that happens. Otherwise, have a lie-down and don't drink alcohol for a week."  
>"Got you, doc."<p>

Preston sat down at his terminal to enter some log files after the two had gone, silently wondering why Sandy hadn't been with them this time. By now he was so used to them being together all the time that it attracted his attention when they weren't. His attention was drawn back into his clinic however when the two security guards came in that had been on the bridge during the mutant attack and needed patching up.

Flak and Shrapnel on the other hand had reached their cabin only to stand dumbfounded in the door and stare at the empty mattress and the empty space around it. Sandy's pack was gone. All of Sandy's stuff was gone. That could only lead to one single, very unpleasant conclusion: That Sandy was gone.

They exchanged a long despairing glance and with a heavy sigh, Flak let himself drop onto his cot where he doubled over with the pain from the incautious movement and the impact. "Fucking shit..."  
>"What now?", Shrapnel asked, looking helplessly around as if he was looking for a clue as to where Sandy might had gone off to.<br>Flak took some deep, laboured breaths and groaned again. "Now, I think..." he took another breath and swallowed a couple of times. "Now I think I'm gonna do exactly as the good doctor Preston told me to."  
>Shrapnel turned around, his worried frown deepening. "Flak?"<br>Flak weakly pointed at their emergency bucket they had to use once after a very heavy drinking contest in the Rudder ages ago. Only once, however, as drinking vodka by the bottle is bad enough while puking it by the bucket is simply horrible. Still, they had kept the bucket in place because... well, you never knew.  
>"I am going to puke now, buddy."<br>Shrapnel was just fast enough getting the bucket for his friend and after that, they could both only look forward to a very unpleasant nearer future.

_**xoxoxoxox**_

Flak kept on puking blood for a couple more days, and for a couple more, he could hardly sleep because no matter how he sat, stood or lay, he always had the feeling he had a deathclaw in his stomach trying to claw its way out again. After a week the pain numbed into a dull, heavy pressure that turned into a throb whenever he moved. Yet he declined Preston's offer of painkillers, he'd need a lot of those for them to have any effect and he knew that these too could be addictive. So he just toughed it out until the pain had receded into a more or less bearable background annoyance.

In all that time, they saw no hair of Sandy nor heard anything about her, not from caravans and not from Three Dog in the radio. And every night, when they had lain down to sleep, both of them would stare at the empty mattress between them with a wistful expression and exchange a worried glance.

"You know what", Shrapnel said one evening. "I swear if she ever comes back again I'm gonna..." Here he broke off and stared at the ceiling. "I guess I want the same as you do, buddy."  
>Flak folded his hands under his head. "Yeah."<br>A tangible silence was hanging in the cabin until Shrapnel gathered all the courage he had. "Flak?"  
>"Hm."<br>"You know... have I ever told you you're my best mate?"  
>"Could be." Flak turned his head to look at his friend. "Why?"<br>Shrapnel took a very deep breath. "Because... you know... I thought..." Here he broke off and gave his friend a helpless look.  
>Flak himself had a feeling he knew where Shrapnel was trying to go, and found it hard himself to put it into words. It was only because he refused to chicken out on anything that he spoke. "You thought best mates can share everything."<br>Shrapnel swallowed. "Yeah."

They stared at one another for a long, long time in a very uncomfortable silence heavy with meaning before they both fell back onto their backs after half an eternity and mutely stared at the ceiling.

"Think she'll come back?" Flak asked after another long while.  
>"Fuck if I know, buddy", was the reply. "Fuck if I know."<p>

They both didn't sleep anymore that night.

_**xoxoxoxox**_

Both of them were in a foul mood after that night as they opened their shop the next day and spent the morning drinking coffee and staring at nothing with blood-shot eyes, reducing their conversation to an absolute minimum. The last time they had become worried after she had failed to return after a few months, this time however hardly more than a week had passed and they were absolutely eating themselves up inside, both of them. None of the two registered that the door opened and someone walked down the stairs; first as that someone stopped inside their stall and set a pack to the ground beside their boots did Shrapnel look up, only to jump out of the couch as if he had been stung by a radscorpion.  
>"Sandy?"<br>That of course shook Flak out of his reverie and he rose to his feet.

They stood in mutual silence for a while, Sandy avoiding their eyes all the time. Finally, she broke the silence after a sigh and ran a hand through her hair.  
>"Sorry for bolting on you like that, guys", she said. "It's... I mean..." She cleared her throat and shifted her weight from one foot to the other a couple of times. "I know I should've taken Flak's joke with a little more grace, but I was so... I was so upset because... because I thought he was seriously injured and..."<br>"Jesus, Sandy, stop apologizing..." Flak began but Sandy shook her head.  
>"No. No, I behaved like a kid... flouncing out like that and... Jesus..." She took another deep breath and ran both hands through her hair this time. "I was furious because of that joke, and angry 'cause I couldn't think of a reply and... and then I was... totally embarrassed because... because..." She was wincing like a kid confessing having stolen all the cookies and forced the next words out in one, single breath. "And I was embarrassed because fuck if I hadn't thought something similar myself about both of you already and I just didn't have the balls to do something about it... oh fuck." She picked up her pack and spun around. "See you around guys." And gone she was.<p>

And Flak and Shrapnel stared after her like a pair of dumbstruck idiots before exchanging a completely bedevilled look.  
>"What..." Shrapnel managed to say after a while, but didn't get any further than that. His friend to whom he looked for any kind of mental assistance was no better off than him, however. He just shook his head, sat down again very slowly and lit up a smoke.<br>Shrapnel followed his lead and they both smoked in silence, sitting on the old, shoddy couch in their stall and wondered what the hell had suddenly happened to their world that it refused to stop spinning so they could get off. What they had completely failed to notice, however, was that while Sandy had left the marketplace, she had not used the main door but the one leading to the Weatherly hotel.

And since they had failed to notice that they were really taken by surprise when, after closing down their shop several hours later, they came to their cabin, unlocked the door and realised someone had been in here and disconnected the neon light at the ceiling so that the room was only illuminated by the dim, red emergency lamp. Someone had... arranged things. The two friends exchanged a nervous look as they took it all in.

Flak's cot had been folded up against the wall, the mattress that had been lying between the two cots was now sitting in the far right corner, with two edges against the walls. On the other cot were, neatly arranged, two packs of smokes with two cigarettes sticking appealingly out of each pack, an ashtray and a flask of whisky. In front of that were two chairs, facing the empty space cleared by the removal of the mattress and the cot.

Shrapnel rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "What the fuck...?"  
>"Fuck if I know, buddy."<p>

But both of them knew that someone had unlocked and locked the door again after them. And the only other person who had a key to their cabin, apart from Harkness whom they deemed unlikely to be behind this... was Sandy.

And as if summoned by their thoughts Sandy chose that moment to step through the door, giving the two of them a mildly embarrassed, but at the same time very determined smile.  
>"Hi guys."<br>Flak swept an arm out on a questioning gesture. "Sandy...?  
>"Uhm." She rubbed the back of her neck. "I wanted... I wanted to give you a present. Both of you, I mean."<br>"A... present."  
>Shrapnel crossed his arms. "What kind of..."<br>"Just sit down", Sandy replied. She seemed very nervous but walked up to the door and locked it.


	13. Chapter 13

_Chef's suggestion for this chapter: Get yourself a good, strong drink and find the song "She's got the Jack" by AC/DC._

* * *

><p>"Sit down", she said again. "And... enjoy." Her smile suddenly changed into something sweet and secretive. Helplessly, the two complied and sat down, wondering what she was up to, staring at her mystified and completely caught like flies in a web when she turned her back to them and began tapping at her Pip Boy. Obviously, whatever she wanted the thing to do didn't work and she began calling it names and knocking her fingers against the screen. "Oh come on, you fuckstick."<br>Surrendering to the circumstances Flak picked up one of the packets of smokes, took one out and lit it with the lighter provided. "What are you up to?", he finally dared to ask.  
>"Presently, I am trying to start a pre-recorded audio log", she said. "One I made in Vault 92, the music Vault I've told you about." She smiled at them over her shoulder. "I mentioned before I found lots of interesting stuff in the world music archive. I wanted to share this one with you."<br>"A song", Shrapnel said and took up the other pack of cigarettes. "Okay."

Maybe Sandy had heard the trace of disappointment in his voice that he hadn't been able to conceal completely. In any case, she smiled over her shoulder at them as the song finally started with a few slow, rhythmic chords of an instrument they identified as an electric guitar. Sandy had been going on about the music she had found in that Vault for hours and hours on end, but this particular piece was new to both of them. And Sandy... Sandy was slowly swinging her hips in time with the music. Only then it occurred to them that she was still wearing her full leather armour despite her normal habit of changing into something more comfortable directly after arriving. The temperature in the room suddenly rose a few degrees when she turned around, still swinging her hips.

Both men sat silently on their chairs, smoking and staring at Sandy who took the zipper of her leather jacket and pulled it down tantalizingly slowly. Likewise slowly she unhooked it and shrugged the jacket off her shoulders with small jerks of her arms, all in time to the music. The jacket fell to the ground behind her. And all the time, she swung her hips gently back and forth.

Shrapnel managed to unfreeze himself just long enough to reach for the whiskey. He screwed off the top, took a very small sip that he rolled around on his tongue as he passed the bottle to Flak who took a similar small sip, clutching the bottle in his hands as he watched Sandy dance. They both still could hardly believe what they were seeing. What they were... being gifted with.

Slowly and always in time to the song she tugged her shirt out of her pants, inch by inch, starting at her back, moving around the hip and belly until she reached her back again when she proceeded with taking the hem and slowly pulling it upward, removing the shirt with the same rhythmic movements she had used with the jacket. She pulled it over her head and dropped it with a small flick of her hand. And underneath...

Flak swallowed and adjusted his position. From the corner of his eyes he saw Shrapnel do the same. They both did not take their eyes off Sandy, and the only thing betraying any kind of emotional involvement was the slowly increasing ferocity with which they smoked.

Under the shirt Sandy was wearing something... completely naughty. It was a silky little dress with leopard spots that hung on thin black straps from her shoulder and the upper part, from shoulder downward to midriff, was nothing but black, almost transparent lace. As she had not yet turned around again it continued to leave the better part of her to their imagination.

Flak took another sip of whiskey without taking his eyes off her and passed the flask over without looking. Shrapnel in turn took it without looking and shifted again in his chair. This was impossible. "Maybe we've died and gone to heaven", he whispered before taking a sip of whiskey.  
>"I'm not sure that these kinds of things are legal in heaven, buddy", Flak gave back and lit up another smoke. Finally, they dared to exchange a quick glance and a still disbelieving grin. Only for a heartbeat, however, as they didn't want to miss a beat.<p>

Sandy chuckled upon hearing her words and, still swinging her hips, had by now lost her self-consciousness and was going with the flow, enjoying the admiring glances Flak and Shrapnel were giving her. She finally turned around and walked with swinging hips towards the two, extending a leg towards Flak, wiggling the booted foot. He got the hint and clamped the cigarette between his lips as he took her boot and slowly and carefully pulled it off her foot. Setting her bare foot onto the ground again she repeated this with the other foot and Shrapnel. He, too, pulled off the boot and dropped it beside him. He took a sip of whiskey and moved his cigarette to his lips with a slightly but still visibly shaky hand.

With rolling hips Sandy walked back to the wall and continued the show with slowly unzipping her pants. Her smile was slow and sensuous as she looked at the two guys under half-lowered lids while sending the pants down in slow motion with unhasty, lazy moves of her hips and legs. Now wearing only that naughty little shift and her Pip Boy, she danced, moving her arms in slow, elegant moves back and forth. And in the dim, reddish light of the cabin, the green light that emanated from the screen of her Pip Boy suddenly did very interesting things to her anatomy.

Highlighting an area in a green shimmer wherever she was holding her Pip Boy she danced, throwing a ray of light down her left leg, up her hips and past her barely concealed breasts that for a second were illuminated in soft, green light that cast dark green shadows in the black lace. The ray of light came to rest on her face, now illuminating her smile, and the way she flicked the tip of her tongue across her lips to moisten them made both of the men shift in their seats again.

Then she turned around and picked something up that had secretly been wedged between the upfolded cot and the wall. And when Sandy turned around again, she was holding her Desert Eagle in both hands and pointed the gun at the two guys who now stared at her in open-mouthed awe. Shrapnel took a hasty sip of the bottle and extended it to Flak who groped for it for a few moments before his hand found it.

And still she danced. Swinging her hips in the slow, lazy rhythm she lifted up the gun, still in both hands, and pressed the barrel to her cheek while looking at them from the corner of her eyes. Then she drew the gun down, down the curve of her neck and down between her breasts where it remained, pointing upwards, the mouth of the pistol resting against her lower lip. Again, the green shimmer of her Pip Boy did interesting things, this time it cast the shadow of the gun on her right breast while illuminating the left one, the side of the Desert Eagle and her lips which now very slowly kissed the tip of the gun.

"Jesus", Flak whispered tonelessly and shifted again. Shrapnel seemed simply frozen solid.

With a smile that neither of them would ever have been able to imagine on her face Sandy now drew the gun back down but hooked it into the hem of the dress, thus tugging the thin and flimsy black lace down, and further down, and still further down until with a sudden snap of cloth but without any sound the lace that had barely been covering her breasts gave way under the strain and replaced any imagination with reality. Forgotten ash crumbled down from two forgotten cigarettes as the Desert Eagle came to rest between two round, soft and completely uncovered breasts.

Sandy started to swing her hips again and began to move her feet so that she made a turn, thus presenting her profile to the two men. Slowly lifting her arms she held out the gun in front of her, then moved it to her side, and down to her hips where she pushed the hem of the dress upward with the tip of the barrel, not much, but just about enough for both Flak and Shrapnel to see that under the dress was nothing but skin.

Flak took a hasty sip of whiskey and held out the bottle with an unsteady hand towards his friend. Shrapnel moved again after a long while of being completely transfixed and took a sip of the whiskey because his throat was becoming too dry to swallow.  
>"We're dreaming, right?", he asked his friend with a low and almost hoarse voice. Flak finally remembered his smoke, tapped the ashes off and replied without taking his eyes off Sandy, his voice pitched low and vibrant. "Fuck if I know."<p>

Sandy chuckled again and slowly turned her back to them. Then she stopped swinging her hips and took the hem of the dress in both hands and pulled it up, agonizingly slowly. Up and up it went until her whole back was uncovered, then she pulled it over her head and with a flick of her arm, tossed it behind her where it landed in Shrapnel's lap. With by now trembling hands Shrapnel picked it up, ran his fingers across the smooth, silky fabric and then held it to his face, inhaling deeply. "Jesus Christ", he whispered shakily but with a tiny smile.

Flak had followed the trajectory of the dress with his eyes and now looked back at Sandy, only to see her facing them, now wearing nothing but her Pip Boy... and the Desert Eagle, still clutched in both her hands, her arms hanging down so that the gun covered precisely the last little piece of her body they hadn't seen yet. With a movement so slow it was painful to look at, at least for the two men watching it, she lifted her arms, aiming the Desert Eagle straight ahead and took two slow, measured steps towards them. Then she swivelled the gun towards Flak who stared at Sandy with arms crossed and legs apart.  
>But he smiled at her, a crooked, gentle smile under half-lowered eyelids. "If you shoot me now girl, I die a happy man."<br>Sandy smiled back, forcing herself to hold eye contact with him as long as she dared, but either he was the tougher player or she was too nervous. She blinked before he did, slowly, and shifted the gun to Shrapnel who smiled as well, an almost drunken smile of sheer bliss as he lifted both his hands outward. "Surrender?"

Sandy still smiled, her smile growing wide as she chuckled and threw back her hair with a flick of her head. And then, without warning, she dropped the gun that landed with a clatter at her feet. She stared down, and at Flak's foot that slowly moved out and rested on the weapon. Looking up again their eyes met, and Sandy held out both arms. "Whoopsie", she said, her voice completely unfamiliarly deep and husky. "All yours, I guess." Flak didn't ask if she was talking about the gun or not.

With a very deep breath Flak now slowly uncrossed his arms and got up, standing before her with his arms hanging loosely down while Sandy stared up at him with a look that could be called nothing but lustful as she reached for the zipper of his leather vest and pulled it down. She didn't take her eyes off his face, but he just slowly lifted one eyebrow. With a wink, Sandy took a step back and turned to face Shrapnel who had also risen from his chair. His leather vest was buttoned and Sandy took a special delight in the look on his face as she slowly unbuttoned it. Behind her, she heard the rustle of cloth and as she looked at Flak again he had shed the upper half of his garments and stood there with his torso bared.

Deciding that she had made it clear enough what she wanted and that her present was not only a show Sandy stood back a little and watched as Shrapnel followed Flak's lead and shrugged off his vest before pulling the shirt over his head. Sandy took her time to appreciatively muster the two, running admiring glances up and down both their bodies before opening her arms in an inviting manner.


	14. Chapter 14

For a moment longer Flak and Shrapnel both hesitated, then they exchanged a glance and seemed to find in each other's eyes every reassurance they would ever need. They both stepped forth and Sandy found herself enveloped by the two, this time, finally, at last, skin to skin. And two eager, yet gentle pairs of hands were slowly running up and down her back and circling on her belly. At this moment, all of her nervousness, or what had remained of it after the success of her performance, dissolved as the rippling heat in her veins returned when one of these hands brushed lightly over one of her breasts.

She could feel and hear the two men at her sides breathe more heavily now, and finally closed her eyes when she felt Shrapnel softly kiss her temple while Flak nuzzled her neck and placed a kiss onto her shoulder.  
>Sandy's heart rate increased when she felt both men press closer and couldn't help but move her hips again as on either side of her the hot and firm crotch of a pair of leather pants rubbed against her skin, digging her hips alternately into their groins with every move back and forth. A rough, calloused but warm and gentle hand moved up her collarbone and across her chin where it rested on her face. A scratchy cheek brushed hers when Flak whispered into her ear. "C'me here, Sandy."<br>She followed the cautious pressure of the hand and turned her head so his lips traced across her cheek and claimed hers in a passionate but gentle kiss that felt completely new and unfamiliar and tasted of smoke and whiskey. Her hands began to wander now too, while her left one ran down Shrapnel's torso and took hold of his belt as he nipped her ear her right hand wandered up on Flak's back, up the back of his neck into the soft stubble of his four millimetre cut and back down again.

Flak broke the kiss and Sandy opened her eyes to find him look at her, his lids still half lowered, a strange, enticing smile on his lips. He put two fingers against her chin, but to her surprise, pushed her face away. Pushed it round, in fact, so she suddenly faced Shrapnel who smiled at her before burying a hand into her hair and kissing her hungrily. Flak stepped away from her at that, and when she and Shrapnel broke the kiss after a moment and looked at him they found him unbuckling his belt as he sat down on the chair again.  
>He shook his head with a smile that was half regretting, half besotted. "Give her a good one, buddy. Eats me, but I ain't in no shape yet to push a girl."<br>Sandy exchanged a glance with Shrapnel who lifted his eyebrows and shrugged. With a smile, Sandy walked up to Flak and took his hand. "No way you're gonna sit alone on that chair here, dude. Come on."  
>Unable to refuse Flak followed the tug of her hands and let himself be led towards the mattress where he lowered himself into the corner, his back to the wall.<p>

Shrapnel had in the meantime begun to unbuckle his belt as well but faltered in his movements when he watched Sandy do the same for Flak, engrossed in what she was doing and smiling to herself while she unbuttoned the fly and pulled the zipper down. The move was smooth and bespoke of practise when she slowly slipped her hand into Flak's boxers and freed him from the tight prison of the leather pants. Sitting back on her heels she leaned over his face to kiss him again, and Flak dug his fingers into her hair this time as he kissed her open-mouthed and greedily.

Shrapnel wouldn't have thought it possible that he could be so turned on by seeing a girl kiss his friend, but the picture he saw, him sitting against the wall, his dick bared on his belly with a buck naked chick, hell, with buck naked Sandy kissing the living daylights out of him... It was almost more than he could bear. Yet he held himself back, because the look on Flak's face as Sandy had dug into his pants and brought him out and the sound he had made with it made Shrapnel want Sandy doing that to him, too.

And as if she knew this perfectly well Sandy now broke the kiss and ran her left hand lovingly down Flak's cheek and over his head before she got up and walked up to Shrapnel again, taking a firm hold of his belt as she looked up at him with a sweet and salacious smile. Unable to keep his hands to himself he dug them into her hair as she unbuckled the belt without taking her eyes off his face. His breath was already coming hard and fast as she had unbuttoned and unzipped the pants. He claimed her lips in a ravenous kiss when she dug both her hands into the waistband of his boxers and he couldn't help growl softly against her lips as she shoved her hands down, thus baring his crotch and his ass in one go.

Digging her fingers into his back Sandy pulled herself closer into him and his kiss, rubbing her breasts against his chest and her hips against his bare groin, causing him to gasp and break the kiss only to bite her neck and grope her buttocks. When Sandy emitted a soft moan at that he swallowed and moved his lips up to her cheek again. By chance he opened his eyes and saw Flak, still sitting with his back to the wall but now with his dick in his hand, watching them with unmasked pleasure, lips slightly parted as he moved his thump up and down himself. Sandy chose that moment to reciprocate the bite and he inhaled sharply, unable to keep his eyes open, and pressed his lips to her cheek again. "You're so hot, Sandy", it escaped him with a heavy huff of breath. "God, Sandy, you're so hot."

She wordlessly hummed against the skin of his neck and let her hands wander down to dig them into his buttocks and pull his hips even closer into hers, grinding his dick between their bodies against the skin of her lower belly. That was too much for him, and Shrapnel snapped. With a groan he pulled away from her and angrily kicked off his boots and pants. Sandy took a step back and slowly lowered herself down onto the mattress as she watched him do this which, in her eyes, did some exciting things to his anatomy.

Breathing heavily, with his hair hanging tousled into his face, Shrapnel turned and faced her, now wearing nothing but the leather string around his neck and a proudly erected dick. She licked her lips and he took a deep breath, shaking his head with a shaky chuckle. "Jesus fucking Christ in a fucking bottle, Sandy."  
>"What?" It sounded impossibly innocent, considering she was kneeling naked between two more or less naked men.<br>"Come on, buddy", Flak suddenly fell in, his voice so deep it was hardly audible any more. "It's not polite to keep the lady waiting."

Another helpless chuckle escaped Shrapnel as he ran a hand through his hair, then he shook his head again and covered the distance between him and Sandy in one long step before lowering himself down in front of her. He looked as if he meant to say something, but as Sandy extended a forefinger to his parted lips, moistened it there and ran that finger across her left nipple he stopped thinking and all hesitation and remnants of embarrassment of having a fuck while someone was watching them dissolved within a heartbeat. He grabbed Sandy's shoulders, pushed her down and kissed her, hungrily, greedily and passionate while he closed both hands around her breasts, causing her to moan against his lips. His breathing deep and ragged he moved his hands down, and a detached part of his brain registered with a strange clarity that Flak's breathing also grew heavy and fast, and for some reason that turned him on even more. Sandy's soft squealing moans matured into a lustful groan when Shrapnel's finger found his goal, and god, was she ready for him. He eased himself down between her legs. "Oh god, Sandy, you're so hot, you're so hot..."

"Wait a second", Sandy suddenly gasped as if she was having second thoughts. Shrapnel opened his eyes with a nigh despairing groan but Sandy smiled at him, that unfamiliar, sweet and lusty smile and wriggled herself out from under his body only to...  
>"Jesus..."<br>... only to turn around, prop herself up onto her knees and elbows and thus giving him full line of sight and ease of access to all and everything he could ever have wished for. With trembling hands Shrapnel took her buttocks, one in each hand, then got a grip on himself and with a firm tug, pulled her closer.  
>He couldn't help it, as he finally found the entrance to her sanctuary, easing himself into her hot, moist and silky tightness with a deep and heartfelt groan he opened his eyes to see Flak look at him, slowly pumping himself, his breath accelerating as well. The thing was... Sandy was looking at Flak as well.<p>

And for the first time in his life Flak experienced what it meant to be caught helplessly in someone's stare. The look Sandy was giving him, while Shrapnel was kneeling behind her and pumping into her, was of a sort that he felt he could be going off any second. God, Shrapnel was right, she was hot. Piping hot.  
>And even as she was being fucked by his best mate, damn it if she wasn't looking at him like she was wishing for it to be him. He felt a trickle of sweat run down his back when she suddenly spoke, her breathing ragged from being fucked. "Flak." She licked her lips, oh sweet bleeding Jesus, she was so hot... "Flak, I meant to give both of you more than a show."<br>"It's not as if I wouldn't want to, darling", he replied, his voice unsteady and his breathing coming hard and fast. "Besides..."  
>She chuckled. Flak could neither believe his eyes nor his ears, damn it, he had had his share of cheap and dirty whores in his life, but the way she smiled right now was so dirty and at the same time so tantalisingly sexy that he felt it absolutely beyond compare. Not that he should have been surprised at that. <em>She<em> was beyond compare. She was absolutely awesome without comparison.

"Flak", she whispered again, her eyes closed and for a few seconds giving in to the sensation of a slowly moving dick inside her. "We've both thought about this, haven't we." She looked at him again, her eyes clouded over with lust. "Come on and move closer, sport. Lemme give you a hand."  
>He found it impossible to disobey; he moved closer and shifted his lower body into her reach. But even as he expected her to give him a hand she gave him...<br>"Holy fuck..."  
>"Oh shit..."<br>Flak and Shrapnel exchanged a wide-eyed glance, only a second before Flak couldn't keep his eyes open anymore and his head flopped back while his ragged breathing slowly turned into low and unchecked, lustful moans while his hand dug into Sandy's hair. That did it for Shrapnel who dropped slow and gentle and began pounding into her as if there would be no tomorrow, eliciting deep and throaty moans from Sandy around a mouthful of quivering dick. That in turn made Flak gasp for air as the last bit of his self control crumbled to pieces and he moaned Sandy's name.

Sandy herself could not moan any louder with her mouth full, she was more and more being frenzied by Shrapnel pushing into her and Flak moaning her name and as she let her tongue play around and up and down his dick, using her lips and the movements of her head that were caused by what Shrapnel was doing to her to pump him. Being as it was that all three of them turned the other two on like hell it probably didn't take that long, but for them every minute dragged into hours and every heartbeat dragged into a small eternity until Shrapnel behind her gasped her name and spent himself with a few deep, bone grinding thrusts that sent Sandy over the edge of the point of no return. Her scream of delight was cut off however, but that didn't matter, because this was all she had wanted for so long, being filled by these two men, and she loved every second, every heartbeat of it, and every drop they spent into her, regardless of where. She drank him dry.

The next few moments passed in the dizzy, heavy-lidded haze that follows the utter satisfaction of good and dirty sex before Sandy folded away under Shrapnel's body leaning heavily onto her. With a deep sigh she crawled to Flak's side, nuzzled as closely into him as possible and held out her arms to Shrapnel who in turn came crawling into her embrace. All three of them were breathing heavily, and Sandy closed her eyes in the sheer blissful feeling of being wedged in between the two men beside her, utterly spent, and utterly happy. So happy, in fact, that she couldn't suppress a light-headed little chuckle.  
>She felt both men look at her and smiled. "I like this. I think I'll call it a Sandy sandwich."<br>It was the turn of the men now to chuckle at her remark, and Flak dropped his cheek onto her crown while Shrapnel nuzzled his face into the hollow between Sandy's neck and shoulder.

"Guys?", Sandy asked after a while.  
>"Hm?" Flak's mildly inquisitive hum.<br>"What?" Shrapnel's hazy whisper.  
>"Do you believe me when I say I love you two guys to bits?"<br>Both of the men chuckled again.  
>"We'd be idiots not to", Flak replied.<br>She chewed her lower lip, but she even though she felt she knew the answer she had to hear it, nonetheless. "And you're sure you're not jealous... of each other?"  
>"Why?" Shrapnel lazily placed a hand on her belly. "You've just given us living proof that there's no need for that kind of shit."<br>"I thought so", Sandy said, grinning with relief. "I just had to make sure."  
>"You know Sandy", Flak said thoughtfully. "I think it's safe to say that if you've got a heart for the whole fucking Wasteland, you'd have place for two blokes like us in there."<br>Sandy had to laugh, and Flak and Shrapnel couldn't help but join her, riding on the emotional and hormonal high they still were in.  
>"Yep", Sandy said, deeply satisfied and utterly happy. "I guess it's safe to say that." Then she turned her head to Shrapnel to kiss him, and after breaking the kiss turned her head again to place a similar gentle kiss on Flak's lips. "My heart's big enough for the two of you, guys."<p> 


End file.
